


The King's folly

by Bluemoonflower



Category: Robin of Sherwood
Genre: Angst, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-05-04 18:15:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 27
Words: 32,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5343746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluemoonflower/pseuds/Bluemoonflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gisburne receives a gift from the King.<br/>The consequences are greater than he ever could have imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fanfic ever.  
> I wrote it in different stages, always picking up where I left off. So if you read the story in one go from start to finish, it's inevitable you'll notice this in the arc.  
> I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you will enjoy reading it as well!

Guy smirked. The great hall of Nottingham Castle was full with noblemen and courtiers, and they were all whispering avidly. He knew full well what they were whispering about. The eyes of the highest-born in the country cast curious glances his way. He felt himself swell with pride. Finally, they looked at him as it was always meant to be: with awe…

And then he gave the sign and the soldiers rolled in the cart, and it got even better.

A murmur went through the crowd at the sight of the outlaws. They were standing in a cage of cast-iron that was mounted on the cart, and looked around in silent defiance. But there was also another emotion visible on their face.

_Fear_ , Guy realised, and he felt sweet satisfaction surge through his body. His enemies were finally vanquished, and they knew it. Because this time, they were _all_ here. Huntingdon and his wingmen Little John and that oaf Will Scarlet, fat friar Tuck, the silent Saracen, the half-wit and of course Lady Wolfshead. Not one had escaped. Not one was left to come and rescue the others just before the ultimate moment. This time, it was truly over.

_For once, everything I did went exactly right_ , he thought, and the memory warmed him from within. For this was a thing of great singularity. Usually, the fates seemed invariably against him. He fought like a lion, trained his men bloody, pushed his horse to the limit of speed and strength, but all to no avail. The outlaws had mocked him, humiliated him and even seriously injured him on countless occasions. But today, it had been the other way around. And today was all that mattered. Today was all that would be remembered.

_They will sing songs about me_ , he thought, glancing at the minstrel who was standing amongst the crowd. _Different songs than the ones that circulate currently._ He could see it now. _Sir Guy of Gisburne, epitome of knighthood, captor of the evil villain Robin Hood!_

But it was the Sheriff who stepped forward and bowed before the King and the young Queen, who were sitting side by side on the dais. ‘As you can see, my liege, my lady, the plot I devised worked perfectly,’ he beamed. ‘The famous Robin Hood and his band of cutthroats have been captured. It is with great joy and humility I hand them over to your justice.’

Guy scoffed. Humility? He looked at his employer. De Rainault was practically glowing with pride, basking in the delight of the reward he was expecting from the King. And suddenly, an uneasy feeling crept in. Surely, the Rainault would not forget about him? He might not have devised the plan to capture the wolfsheads, but he had executed it, had he not? And to perfection too!

‘My liege?’  
Puzzled, the Sheriff looked up at the King. He had not really reacted to the presence of the wolfsheads. Instead he just sat there looking at them, with a brooding, almost angry expression on his face. De Rainault frowned, and so did Gisburne. Was the King displeased? Or just in one of his moods? It was impossible to tell with a man so volatile.

The tension in the great hall became palpable. The gathered noblemen and –women, squires and servants all waited anxiously for what their ruler was going to say. But King John remained silent. His eyes glinted malevolently in the candlelight as they studied the content of the cage.

_He is looking at the girl_ , Guy realised. _But why?_

It was no secret the King had been taken by Marion’s beauty in the past. But it was also no secret she had responded to that interest by making him into an absolute laughing stock. Songs about that had been written too. Songs punishable by a harsh whipping for anyone who dared to sing them out loud!

_Surely he cannot be considering taking that unruly minx for another go?_ Gisburne thought. _No… No man in the world would bring himself into that position again!_

He himself could not understand the attraction Marion wielded anyway. True, she was pretty, in a wild, messy sort of way. A long time ago, when she lived in the castle under the protection of the Sheriff and had dressed and acted more lady-like, he had noticed her. He could not deny that. But that was a distant memory and of no consequence anymore. For she had let herself be taken by a commoner. A lady of rank that had voluntarily spread her legs for a vulgar serf! The thought disgusted him. Why it did not equally disgust the King, or Huntingdon for that matter — after all, he was of high birth too — was completely beyond him.

_Lady Wolfshead, indeed,_ he thought and curled his lips.

The King broke his gaze from Marion and whispered something to Queen Isabella. The girl giggled and then pinched his cheek, to which his pale face went glowing bright red. Gisburne cringed at the sight of this blatant public display of affection. He disliked the new Queen almost as much as he disliked Marion, and furthermore, he knew she disliked _him_. She had made that quite clear after the whole debacle with the Gloucesters. A potentially dangerous situation, since the King was obviously smitten by her. But much to his relief, the Queen had not looked at or spoken to him once since she had been in Nottingham. 

_Maybe she has forgotten all about me?_ he hoped. He glanced sideways at the Sheriff. But his employer was following the hushed conversation that was now taking place between King and Queen with a wary look in his eyes. 

_He suspects something_ , Guy thought, and his stomach sank. _That usually bodes ill._ Though he hadn’t the faintest idea of what it could be. They had finally captured the outlaws. Why was the King acting so strangely?

The conversation with the Queen ceased, and King John stood up from his throne. He grinned widely. It was an uncommon and unsettling sight.  
‘Bravo, de Rainault!’ he said, in his thin, icy voice. ‘What a wonderful present you bring before Us. We are most pleased.’

The Sheriff relaxed a little, and forced a courteous smile on his face.

‘You may expect a generous reward for your troubles,’ the King continued. He waved at one of his servants, who put a little bejewelled box on the table, and de Rainault’s smile became a genuine one.  
The worried thoughts left Guy’s mind instantly, and he felt his hands tingle with impatience. _What about me?_ he wanted to shout. _What about me!_

But the King ignored the eager knight. Instead, he wandered to the cage and looked inside. The outlaws stared back at him. Robin with all the noblemen’s poise he could muster, John and Nasir in wary silence, Marion proud, Tuck protective of her, and Much frightful, with averted eyes. ‘A fine catch,’ the King mused. ‘Although not entirely fresh anymore.’ He got his handkerchief out and pushed it against his nose. ‘This one reeks!’

At this point, Will Scarlet could restrain himself no longer. He had kept it together while that room of velvet-clad Norman filth vetted him like a prized steer. But a direct attack by the King Of Them All, was too much. ‘Wot ‘r you lookin’ at?’ he spat.

A shocked gasp went through the watching crowd, and some of the ladies uttered little cries.

‘Silence, scum!’ Gisburne bellowed at Will. ‘Show some respect for your King!’

‘He ain’t my king,’ Will retorted, his voice low with anger.

‘Guards!’

One of the soldiers hit Will on the nose with the handle of his sword. Blood gushed down, and Will fell to his knees. He swallowed a cry of pain before it left his throat.

Gisburne grinned with evil pleasure.

‘Bastard!’ Will hissed vehemently, and Guys grin turned cold. He almost went for his own sword, but held back when he saw the warning look de Rainault gave him. This course of action was apparently advised against, although Guy had no clue why. But he obeyed his master, if only out of force of habit. Looking for another way to vent his frustration, he sneered at Will: ‘No use killing a dead man.’ Then he barked at the cage in general: ‘Because that is what you are, all of you: dead!’

‘Are you to administer justice to them then, Gisburne?’ came a cold voice from the dais. Startled, Guy turned around. It was the King, who had regained his seat. ‘I thought your master had handed the prisoners to _me_?’

‘But, my liege, I …’

‘You _what_?’

Gisburne bowed his head. ‘Forgive me, my liege.’

Surprisingly, The King calmed down. ‘Your blood is still hot from the fight, young knight,’ he said in a mocking tone. ‘So I will forgive you your transgression. Don’t worry, you will get your reward as well. I am aware of the key role you played in the capture of these men.’

Guy could almost _feel_ the Sheriff raising his eyebrows. But for once, he didn’t care. Nothing could ruin this day. Greed glinted in his eyes as he looked up and said: ‘Thank you, my liege!’

King John exchanged a mysterious little smile with the Queen and then moved his attention to the cage again. ‘And as for you, fish in the net, I will give forgive you your transgressions as well. I hereby hand you your freedom back.’

The great hall fell dead quiet. You could hear a pin drop. Even the dogs held their breaths. Gisburne and de Rainault glanced at each other, and then back at the King. What the devil was happening?  
The outlaws were equally bewildered. Nobody moved, nobody spoke, and everybody expected the worst.

‘Well, will you not thank me?’ said the King, almost innocently. ‘I pardon you and you don’t speak a word?’

The outlaws looked at each other. Then Robert said: ‘It is a fine gesture indeed, but why on earth would you do such a thing, my liege?’

Will grumbled at the polite way he spoke to the King, but Robert couldn’t help himself. His upbringing was like a second nature to him.

‘Because I can,’ answered King John. ‘Or do you believe you are so important to me I cannot afford to set you free? Besides: it would please my lovely wife.’ He kissed the hand of the girl that was the Queen of England. She sent him back a sugary smile. But when she rose from her throne and stared down into the hall, everyone present could see the cold madness in her eyes.

In her heavy accent, she declared: ‘It is indeed my wish to let these bandits go free. As a gift to the people of this country I now call my own. The peasants can go back to their villages. And you may join your father, Huntingdon. Provided he gives my husband ample compensation for the trouble you have caused, of course.’

The outlaws stared incredulously at King John. But he only had eyes for Marion. Queen Isabella did not seem put out by this. Rather on the contrary, even. ‘The lovely Lady Leaford will get her position back as well,’ she purred. Then she dropped the bomb. ‘And given a proper husband to match.’

Marion an Robert looked at each other. ‘What do you mean, a husband?’ Marion asked warily.

‘Well, you can hardly stay unmarried!’ scoffed the Queen. ‘For what is a woman in this world, without a man at her side?’ At this she eyed the King with nauseating adoration. King John grinned like a schoolboy. A very scary schoolboy… 

‘I am aware you lost your honour to that wolfshead peasant,’ sighed Queen Isabella. ‘Hence, no decent man would ever consider touching you again. But I take pity in your plight. That is why I, in all my goodness, have decided to intervene and provide you with a husband.’ She smiled cruelly. ‘Now don’t get too excited. It can’t be someone too high-up, of course. We have to remain realistic. But not to worry, I picked you a pretty one. That is always a plus when husbands are concerned.’

And then Gisburne almost dropped dead when she turned and pointed her little, bejewelled finger straight at him. ‘Sir Guy,’ she announced genially. ‘You may take the lady Marion as your wife.’

Apparently, The Queen had not forgotten about him at all…


	2. Chapter 2

‘But, but, my liege…’ Guy stammered, in his desperation turning to the only person that could call back the Queen of England. But there was no relief to be found.

The King did not even look at him. He just stared at Marion, greedily drinking in the shocked horror on her face like it was an exquisite wine. For he too had forgotten nothing. ‘This is the reward for your bravery in catching these outlaws, sir Guy,’ he spoke, without faltering his gaze from the girl. ‘You will get the lady Marion, and thus become the heir to her father’s lands.’

Guy felt sick. The entire room was looking at him with a mixture of pity and guile. The shame was unbearable. ‘I can’t marry her!’ he protested forcefully.

The King rolled his eyes. ‘And why not? You are starting to annoy me, Gisburne.’

‘I can’t marry the Lady Marion, because…’ From the corners of his eyes Guy could see de Rainault grinning. It was obvious he didn’t have to expect any help from that direction.  
‘… because I am already betrothed!’ he blurted out.

‘A betrothal I know nothing about? How is that possible?’

‘It is only very recent, and the girl is Scottish,’ he lied.

‘Why on earth would you want to marry a Scot? I hereby refuse you the right to do that. You’ll marry Lady Marion and that’s that. Bishop!’

Guy’s face turned pale with horror. ‘Surely, my liege, You can’t mean… not… not right _now_?!’

‘Right _now_!’ the Queen answered. She clapped her hands in excitement and then grinned at him like he was a worm on the hook.

Dazed, Marion tried to fathom what was going on. Next to her, Robert gripped the bars of the cage. ‘You can’t do this!’ He shouted. ‘This is an outrage!’

‘I can, and I will,’ the King simply said. ‘My wife has decided they are the perfect match. And I always rely on her where matters of the heart are concerned.’ Then he pulled Queen Isabella close and gave her a long, explicit kiss in the way of the French.

Marion’s stunned silence broke when the soldiers started taking her shackles off. ‘No!’ she yelled. ‘Leave me be! I’ll never marry him! You are all mad!’

But they pulled her out of the cart, and away from the frantic shouts of her friends.

Guy felt numb as he saw her being dragged towards him. Was this really happening? Surely, this had to be some kind of sick joke! He cursed himself. Why couldn’t he think of anything to say or do to get himself out of this mess?

The Bishop stepped forward and Marion hissed: ‘I will never agree to this. Never! And neither will my father!’

Suddenly, Guy realised that maybe _he_ wouldn’t have to do anything. 

_She will refuse_ , he thought, _and thereby take the fall in my stead…_

He was off the hook!

He kept quiet and rooted for Marion as she fought for her freedom.

The King turned purple with rage by her defiance, but the Queen was unmoved. ‘Oh, but you _will _marry him,’ she said, smiling sweetly. ‘Why would your father protest? He will be happy you were pardoned. Sir Guy is a knight, and you are a knight’s daughter. It is an obvious union. Besides, your father’s wishes in this affair are of no consequence whatsoever. What the King ordains is all that matters.’__

__‘Well _I_ ’ll never say yes,’ said Marion proudly. ‘I’d rather die!’_ _

__‘Do you want them to die as well?’ The Queen pointed at the outlaws. Will, John, Nasir, Tuck, Much, and Robert._ _

___Robert…_ Marion felt fear take her over. She loved Robert. She had done so for a long time, but because of her grief for Robin they had only very recently become lovers. It had made her happy, but now she would pay the price for that happiness. For she knew from experience that nothing made a person more vulnerable than love._ _

__‘Don’t do it, Marion!’ Robert cried, and she felt a pang of pain when she saw his beautiful face distorted with emotion._ _

__But she knew she had no choice. She could not let her friends suffer for her! It was unthinkable._ _

__Guy saw the look in her eyes, and a mortal dread overtook him. She was going to agree! That red-haired floozy was actually going to say yes! This couldn’t be happening! Suddenly, he felt a violent urge to turn around and run straight out of the hall, the castle, and England all together. But how could he defy the king?_ _

__There was nothing left to say. So, like lambs before slaughter, Guy of Gisburne and Marion of Leaford promised each other faithfulness, love and servitude before the eyes of God and all that were present.  
‘You may now kiss the bride,’ the Bishop concluded._ _

__Bewildered, Guy looked at his new wife. She returned the gaze with equal consternation._ _

__‘Well?’ mocked the King. ‘Shall I show you how it’s done, Gisburne?’_ _

__The great hall roared with laughter, and Guy turned bright red. He had never felt so humiliated. Hurriedly, he gave Marion a demure peck on the cheek, to which she recoiled in disgust._ _

__‘True love!’ the Queen giggled malevolently. ‘I can see you will be very happy together.’_ _

__‘Yes, and now off to the bedchamber,’ the King commanded. ‘I want it made official. Report back to me when the deed is done.’_ _

__Under the lascivious jeers of the crowd, Marion and Guy were escorted out of the hall. Guy could hear Huntingdon screaming: ‘Don’t you dare touch her, Gisburne. Don’t you dare!’_ _


	3. Chapter 3

They were hurled into Gisburne’s chamber like it was prison cell. The moment the door fell in the lock, Marion swivelled away, caught hold of the knife that was lying on the desk and pointed it at him.

‘Don’t come any closer if you know what’s good for you!’ she hissed menacingly.

Guy scoffed. ‘Don’t flatter yourself.’

Marion ignored the insult. ‘Because I might have said yes in there, but I didn’t mean a word of it!’ she continued.

‘Nor I!’

‘I don’t want to be married to you!’ she exclaimed.

‘And _I_ don’t want to be married to _you_!’

They looked at each other, sizing each other up, almost. Both of them were breathing heavily from the violent emotions they had just lived through. Marion swallowed and then lowered the knife a little. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘I am glad we got that cleared up.’

Guy walked to the hearth. The fire was burning low. Clearly, the servants hadn’t expected him back so soon. Not on the night of his great triumph! He poked around in the ashes and threw another log on. Tense, he rubbed the back of his neck.

‘This is a nightmare,’ he sighed.

‘Look, nothing is lost yet,’ Marion said. ‘As long as we don’t consummate this “marriage” it is not valid. So you keep your hands off of me, and when the King is gone and my friends are released, I return to Sherwood.’

‘The King will never agree to that! He is used to having his way,’ Guy shouted. And begrudgingly, he added: ‘And so does the Queen.’ He knew full well he had her to thank for this mess.

‘They just want their revenge,’ Marion said coolly. ‘When they believe it satisfied, they will lose interest in us.’

‘Easy for you to say, you’ll be in the forest and I will be here, ready to be punished!’

‘You know what the King is like. This will all die down.’

Guy racked his brain. Could it work? ‘We have to content the King though,’ he said. ‘He mustn’t know we disobeyed him. We have to stay in here a for a while and act like we… you know…’ He shrugged uncomfortably. When she didn’t react, he shouted: ‘Well, do you understand?’

Marion rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, of course,’ she sighed. ‘I am not a moron!’ She put the knife in her belt and sat down in a chair by the fire. The red of her hair glowed like the flames themselves.  
‘Well, how long should we wait, you think?’ he asked.

She arched her eyebrows. ‘I don’t know, Gisburne,’ she scoffed. ‘That is rather up to you, isn’t it?’


	4. Chapter 4

When they walked back into the great hall, the atmosphere had changed greatly. The nobles had been feasting on food and wine — a lot of wine. So when Marion and Guy were announced, they were greeted with a chorus of loud and vulgar jeers.

‘Aha!’ mocked the King. ‘Out two lovebirds. Had a good time, did you?’

Guy flushed, and Marion cast her eyes to the ground, as if she was deeply ashamed. From the cage, the outlaws were looking on in misery. Robert’s face had the shade of a corpse’s.

Marion wished she could reassure him in some way, but she couldn’t risk falling out of her role. So she sniffled as was to be expected.

‘How sweet,’ the Queen said. ‘She is overwhelmed with emotion.’ She freed herself from the King’s embrace and leaned forward. ‘Now you are finally a decent woman,’ she said. ‘But you understand we’ll have to have it checked.’ She snapped her fingers and a strange and crooked old woman stepped forward, seemingly out of nowhere. 

‘This is Mistress Mabel,’ Queen Isabella announced. ‘She is an expert of all things feminine. She will check if you performed you marital duty.’

Marion and Guy exchanged a worried glance. Robert noticed it, and he exhaled with relief. Nothing had happened! He was sure of it. He could tell by the way Marion behaved. But they were not out of the woods yet…

‘Stay away from me!’ Marion yelled, as the awful old crone approached her. ‘Don’t touch me!’

The woman was flanked by soldiers. ‘Back to the room,’ she commanded. ‘Unless you would like me to do the examination here, my lady?’ She flashed her sparse, yellow teeth.

‘Ugh!’ cried Marion.

Guy felt the net closing round him. ‘This is an outrage!’ he tried. ‘I don’t want my… my wife manhandled like this!’

‘Why so worried, Gisburne?’ the Queen snapped. ‘Are you afraid what the Mistress might discover? Or… _not_ discover?’

Guy did not answer. He was trying to decide what to do.

The Queen nodded at the old woman, and the soldiers grabbed Marion by the arms.

Defeated, Guy looked at the ground. ‘Stop!’ he sighed. There was no point for her to undergo such a humiliation.

The hall fell silent, as the King rose ominously. ‘You dare to defy _me_ , Gisburne?’ he hissed, trembling with anger. ‘The King of England?’

‘No, my liege.’

‘Then why have you not done as I ordered you?’ he screeched, at the top of his voice. He grabbed a chicken-leg from his plate and threw it at Gisburne. It missed and hit one of the Barons standing in the back. Immediately, the dogs pounced on it.

‘There, there, my love,’ the Queen fussed over her husband. Gently, she eased him back on his throne. ‘Now don’t get so upset, I beg of you. It is not good for your health.’ She gave him a little kiss on the nose.

‘Mh,’ said the King. And miraculously, he did calm down a little. He turned to Gisburne again. ‘Well?’ he mocked. ‘Are you going to explain why you did not bed your wife, Gisburne? You don’t have technical difficulties, I hope?’ 

The nobles laughed and Guy clenched his teeth. He wouldn’t dignify this with an answer.

But the King was adamant. ‘Well, _do_ you have technical difficulties?’ he repeated.

‘No!’

‘Do you find the Lady Marion unattractive, then?’

He shrugged. ‘She is very pretty,’ he admitted sullenly.

‘Well, _what_ is it then?’

Guy swallowed. Then he looked the King straight in the eye and whispered: ‘I am not a rapist!’

For some reason, this caused an explosion of mirth in the hall.

‘A rapist?’ The King scoffed. ‘You are such a fool, Gisburne! How can a man rape his own wife? That is impossible.’

But Guy replied proudly: ‘When the lady says no, she says no…’

Now the whole room positively roared.

‘Why, we have a romantic on our hands!’ the Queen laughed hysterically.

Guy felt like the ground was about to swallow him up. When would this torture be done with! He glanced at Marion. At least one person who wasn’t laughing…

But the King was about to put it all to an end. ‘Very romantic indeed, sir Guy,’ he agreed coolly. ‘And if you don’t go back to your room and lie with your wife right now, you will swing very romantically tomorrow. Right next to the outlaws you so valiantly captured! Is that understood?’


	5. Chapter 5

‘What on earth are we going to do?’

Gisburne paced up and down the room. Frantically, he tried to look for a loophole. Some way out of this disaster.

Marion was sitting in the big chair by the fire again, and gave him a sad, resigned look. ‘What can we do?’ she whispered.

When he realised what she meant, he stopped dead in his track. ‘You can’t be serious!’ he exclaimed.

‘If we don’t, they will hang my friends. And you as well.’

‘We could make a run for it,’ Guy mused wildly. 

‘Then Robert and the others will still be hanged!’

‘As they should be,’ he remarked disdainfully.

Marion rolled her eyes. ‘Well I don’t agree with that! Besides, where could you go anyway?’

‘Scotland?’

‘The Scots would hand you over in the blink of an eye,’ she scoffed.

To his dismay, he realised she was right. The last straw he had been clinging to had snapped. Defeated, he sat down in the other chair and with a sigh, put his face in his hands. Marion stared at him, but without really seeing him. They stayed like this for a while, sitting across from each other in silence, their silhouettes sharply etched against the light of the fire. A thousand thoughts ran through Marion’s head. Then she spoke, her voice low with revulsion: ‘Just do it.’

He looked up at her, dumbfounded.

‘Just _do_ it,’ she insisted.

He swallowed hard and mumbled: ‘I need wine.’ He got up out and walked to the table. His hand shook, as he filled the cup to the brim. The wine was purple-red and tasted like blood. He drained the whole thing in one go and immediately pored again. ‘You want some?’ he asked Marion.

Her eyes grew dark with anger. ‘I don’t want wine. What I want, is for this to be over with!’ 

‘You… you don’t understand,’ he stammered. ‘It is not that simple!’

‘What’s difficult about it?’

He reddened and averted his eyes.

‘Well?’

‘Oh God…’ With a sigh he walked to the hearth, the cup of wine still in his hand. ‘Look, I did not lie when I told the King I’m not a rapist. I don’t get off on that sort of thing at all. If I don’t feel the woman _wants_ me in some way, I cannot…’ He closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. Then he took a deep breath and continued: ‘I cannot… _rise_ to the challenge, if you know what I mean.’

Aghast, Marion looked at him. The proud knight stood before her like a wretched dog that had just been kicked.

‘That’s a lie!’ she exclaimed.

‘I assure you it is not.’

‘What about that woman from Elsdon then? Jennet? You tried to force her, didn’t you?’

Guy turned to her in a mad fit of anger. Wine spilled over the edge of the cup. ‘But I did not rape her, did I? She said no, and I couldn’t. I _couldn’t!_ Now you understand?’

Marion frowned. It would explain why he had gone through all that trouble just to punish the girl. If he had really wanted to, he could’ve just raped her and be done with it.

‘And Sarah?’ she asked. ‘Sarah de Talmont?’

Guy lifted his chin. ‘ _She_ wanted me. She just wouldn’t admit it. Religious reasons, probably. But I saw it in those dark, smoky eyes of her, every time she came to the castle.’

‘You’re mad,’ Marion scoffed.

‘Doomed, more likely.’ He turned towards the fire again, and leaned his free arm against the wall. When he spoke, all the disdain had gone from his voice. ‘I can’t bed you, Marion. It is impossible for me to imagine that you might want me.’

With a shock, Marion realised he was speaking the truth. She remained silent for a while, and a deep sadness rose up from her stomach. She closed her eyes and listened to her heart, beating loudly and slowly in her chest. She knew what she had to do. 

‘I can always try to convince you…’

Startled, he turned his head and looked at her. Her green eyes were big and feverish, as she continued: ‘Because I _do_ want you, Guy. If only to save my friends and my lover. I need you. There has never been a woman in the world that needed a man as much as I need you now.’

Marion saw him staring at her, almost fearfully, as she rose and walked towards him. He was still standing with his back to the room, so she got behind him. Slowly, she put her hands around his waist. She could feel him exhale under the embrace. Tears welled up in her eyes, as she brushed her cheek against his tunic. He smelled like horses and leather. It was a reassuring scent. The scent of her girlhood. Gently, she pressed her lips against the coarse fabric.

‘Marion,’ he whispered, and there was a tremble in his voice. ‘Don’t…’

But she fought back the tears and kissed him again. As sweetly as she could. _Robert_ , she thought desperately. _Robert, tonight I will only think of you._

Guy did not know what to do. He could feel Marion’s slender body pressing against him, her warmth, her movements, her kisses. This was madness! And yet it felt... it felt... He turned around to face her. She brought her hands up to his chest and took the cup of wine from him. Slowly, she drank what was left in it, her lips crimson and moist. He was struck by how sad, and at the same time infinitely beautiful, she looked. The red curls wreathed her delicate face like a fiery crown. Hesitantly, he reached out and touched one of the locks. She shivered and the empty cup slipped from her fingers. With a loud clank it fell to the floor. 

‘Undo you braid,’ he whispered gruffly.

Marion’s fingers still trembled as she did what he asked. She had done the same for Robert, not long ago. And it was this memory she held onto now, as the curls fell to her shoulders and Guy pulled her closer. She gasped when he buried his face in them. She could feel his breath on her neck. Warm, and steadily faster.

She surprised herself by letting her hand slide down the front of his tunic, and then underneath. She undid the bindings, and touched his flesh. It was not hard yet, so she started stroking it gently.

Frozen, he stood by the fire, clasping her back and hair, as she tried to bring him to life. His breath quickened with the movement of her fingers, but it sounded more like the panting of a man in agony than one enamoured, and nothing really happened. Marion felt her courage falter. But she knew there was no other option. With a sob she got down on her knees.

‘No,’ he whispered, as he took her by the elbows and pulled her back up. ‘Like this.’ He came closer and gave her a careful kiss on the lips. Startled, Marion pulled back from the embrace. Somehow, this was even more difficult. And yet… For the first time since she had approached him, she looked into his eyes. They were a lot softer now, with the pupils so wide. In the dimly lit room it was easy to imagine them to be of a friendlier sort of blue. More like the shade of eyes she was used to looking into. And his hair, just as golden as Robert’s in the firelight.

 _I have to keep thinking of him_ , she told herself. _Just keep thinking of Robert..._

Marion moved forward again, and this time she took the initiative. She kissed Guy tenderly, like a lover would do. He returned the embrace a little awkwardly, but with equal care. His lips were warm, full and soft. She felt his tongue brush over her lips, gently tempting them to open. With a sigh, she succumbed, and he explored the inside of her mouth. She experienced a tingly sensation in her lower belly, and he did the same, for his erection finally came. She could feel it pushing big and hard against her hip. It was what she had hoped for, but the prospect of what inevitably came next, suddenly frightened her. Her muscles tensed and she nervously grabbed hold of his collar as he took her in his arms and carried her to the bed.

Shivering, she awaited him while he undid his belt, took his tunic and undershirt off. His frame was lean and muscular, and crisscrossed with scars from all the fights he had been in. Marion knew very well how some of those scars had been inflicted. But she had to push back the memories they called up. Tonight, she could not think of Guy as her enemy, for if she did, she would never make it until morning.

In an attempt to overcome her hesitation, she reached out and touched the marks. He flinched, as though she was cutting the wounds open again. And Marion realised that the hard, unyielding body before her was familiar with pain, but completely unaccustomed to tenderness. Light as a feather, she kept on stroking him.

Guy was totally taken aback. Nobody had ever touched him in this way — so gently, so sweetly — and he was afraid that if he moved, if he so much as _breathed_ , Marion would pull away and the moment would be gone forever. He marvelled at her hands as they caressed his body. They were so pale and soft, and so tiny in comparison to his own. After all those years in the forest, she still had the hands of a lady. He trembled as he tried to hold back his passion, while her fingers ran across the lines on his arms, stomach and chest. But when she leaned forward and her soft lips touched the skin above his solar plexus, he could hold back no longer.

With a grunt he rolled on top of her. Feverishly, he started kissing her neck. He tried to unlace her dress, but couldn’t work it out and then just ripped it open. She shrieked, which turned him on greatly. Panting, he unveiled her small, pale breasts. He cupped the left one and put his mouth on the delicate, pink nipple. She moaned softly as he suckled her, and he felt the tip rise up between his lips. Reluctantly, but hungry for more, he released it and moved his attention to the other one. She was breathing very fast now, with closed eyes. And still her hands were on him. Caressing him, moving over his shoulders and neck, grabbing the back of his hair. His erection was throbbing with desire. Hurriedly, he pushed her skirts up. The skin here was even softer, and he exhaled with surprise when he discovered how wet she was. He used some of it to prepare himself. Then he opened her legs wider, lay down between them, and took her. She was smooth like silk and received him fully. He closed his eyes and pressed his cheek against hers. She put her arms around his neck and held him tightly. He could hear her sob as he moved inside her, but at the same time she made other sounds in ways that kept him going. He felt her breasts rubbing against his chest on the rhythm of his thrusts. He could not help it; he kissed her again. On the side of her neck, her earlobe, her cheekbone... even her mouth. She moaned helplessly and he felt like he was going to die. Or going mad. Or both at the same time.

‘O, Marion,’ he whispered. ‘Marion, Marion.’

‘No,’ she breathed, whimpering softly. ‘No.’

But it was too late. Marion had gone too far, tricked her body too well. The image of Robert drifted in and out of focus. Sometimes it was very clear, but then it suddenly faded and she became painfully aware of what was really happening. In those moments she fully experienced everything Guy was doing to her. How he pulled her leg a little higher up, to find the right position. The way his hands squeezed her buttocks and thighs, or how his shoulders moved when he pushed still deeper inside. His weight on top of her. The smell of his sweat. His lips on her cheek, her neck, her mouth. There was no denying it. This was not Robert, this was his half-brother, her arch enemy. She wanted to cry out, to scream at the injustice of it all. 

But she didn’t. For her body reacted to what was happening to it. Like a traitor it tried to keep up with that of her unwelcome lover, and she moaned and sighed under his touch. Her hips locked tightly together with his, moving in unison as if they had never done differently. Guy’s thrusts became deeper and more powerful. He was completely inside of her now. She felt him pushing against the limit of what she could offer. It hurt. But it was of a strange and exquisite pain, almost too pleasurable to bear. And suddenly, she could feel it coming. The rush of the ultimate moment was almost there. Instinctively she arched her back. Her fingers clung to his neck, the nails digging into his muscular shoulders. And then it came over her like a wave and she screamed, and he screamed too, and then it was all over. Empty, hollow and humiliated she turned to the side. There was only one thing left to do. With husk, harrowing wails that came from somewhere deep within, Marion started weeping. Praying that the salty water would purify her. Would somehow clean her from the inside out. 

Still breathing heavily from the effort, Guy put his breeches back in order and stumbled up from the bed. It was like he was waking up from a fever dream. He felt filthy and sacred and sad and joyful and alone and connected, all at once. Marion had baffled him. She had not just lain with him, she had somehow _loved_ him during the confusing business that just took place. He did not know why. Couldn’t understand it. But it had unlocked something within him. Something he hadn’t even known was there. And now a million unfamiliar emotions took advantage of the small gap in the door and rushed in at the same time. But there was one emotion that trumped them all.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘I’m so sorry.’

He touched her on the shoulder, that miserable little heap of woman that was lying in his bed. A wreck of a person, and he was to blame. He _was_ a rapist, after all. Another proud feat to add to his list...

He brushed his eyes and went to the door. ‘Get the hag!’ he croaked. ‘It is done.’

The woman came in and gave him a salacious smile, before she walked over to Marion and started examining her.

‘Oh, yes,’ she cooed, as she pried between the legs of her victim. ‘Yes, indeed.’

‘Just get on with it!’ he barked. The sight of his wife lying there, grief-stricken, while that awful crone was submitting her to such an embarrassing procedure, was almost too much for him to bear.

‘Intercourse was had,’ the hag concluded gleefully. ‘And the white stuff is right where it should be.’ She put her filthy hand on Marion’s belly. ‘Congratulations, my lord. It is quite probable that a child was conceived tonight.’

He grabbed her by the collar. ‘Get out! Now!’

‘The King wants to see you!’ the woman crowed, waving her finger. ‘He ordered it.’

‘The King can wait!’ He pushed her out, closed the door and walked back to the bed. ‘Marion?’ he whispered softly. ‘Are you all right? Are... are you in pain? Please tell me you are all right...’ 

But she didn’t answer. She just cried.


	6. Chapter 6

Robert knew immediately. The moment Gisburne appeared in the hall alone, he knew. But his natural optimism was not ready to accept such a catastrophe yet, so he latched on to the last smidgen of hope. Nervously, he watched his enemy approach the dais. When the King and Queen inquired where Marion was, Gisburne replied she was “indisposed”. The nobles grinned, and Robert almost felt his legs give way underneath him. And then the old woman that served the Queen confirmed what he had feared all along. His beautiful Marion, the love of his life, had just been ravaged by that beast that he had to endure as a brother.

The room became a blur. Around him, his friends reacted to the news in their own way. John spoke to him in a soft voice, Tuck was sobbing and Will cried out insults towards the dais. But Robert did not really hear them, did not really see them. In fact he could not see anyone or anything, except Gisburne. He studied the knight closely. He looked different, somehow. Still unsettled, but much quieter than before. The mockery of the King, the Queen and the crowd seemed to wash over him, like his mind was elsewhere...

Robert trembled with rage as he pictured Gisburne’s lips on Marion’s, his hands touching her naked breasts, his body on top of hers, bearing down on her, overpowering her, raping her. When he realised her smell was probably on him right now, he felt like he was going to be sick.

But it was only when Gisburne asked the King permission to retire to his chamber again, that Robert truly grasped the full implications of what had happened.

‘Give the girl my regards,’ King John smiled cruelly.

The knight gave him a strange, distant look. ‘Lady Leaford will be very much obliged,’ he answered dryly.

‘No, sir Guy,’ the Queen giggled. ‘Not lady Leaford. Lady _Gisburne_!’

Robert let go of the cage like the wrought-iron had suddenly become scalding hot. He stepped back as far as the shackles would allow him. John spoke again. But he could still not bring himself to focus on what his friend said. As he saw Gisburne leave the hall, there was only one thought that filled Robert’s mind.

_This time I will end him, brother or no brother..._

 

                 *

 

As Guy strode through the dark castle corridors, the events of tonight flashed before his eyes. A couple of hours ago, he had still been basking in glory. But the Queen’s revenge had been brutal. And now, all was lost. The outlaws he had captured would be released again, the gold he had hoped for wasn’t coming his way, and he had somehow ended up married to a girl that would loathe him even more now than she had already done before— and with good reason too.

_I still have my life_ , he sighed. _At least that’s something..._

But for how much longer? He had heard the wolfsheads cry out when they realised Marion had become his wife in body as well as in soul. And the way Huntingdon had looked at him needed no further explanation.

_It doesn’t matter_ , Guy thought proudly. _I can take him. I can take all of them!_

He entered the bedchamber. Marion was still lying on her side, with her back to him. When he approached her, he was relieved to find that she had cried herself to sleep. He didn’t know if he could have coped with her grief again. He studied her for a while. She had pulled the bear-skin that covered the sheets all the way up to her chin. She looked so tiny underneath it. Her face a pale mask of sorrow amidst the dark fur. Hesitantly, he considered the free spot next to her. He was exhausted. But he couldn’t bring himself to get undressed, pull back the sheets and climb in bed. It would surely upset her if she woke up in the middle of the night and discovered him so close. He shook his head. He had just experienced one of the most intimate moments of his life with this girl — no, not just a girl, his _wife_ now — and yet he felt too uncomfortable to even sleep beside her. 

_The perversions of the Queen have no boundaries_ , he thought bitterly.

With a sigh he walked to the fireplace and slumped down into the big chair. Then he wrapped his cloak around him and tried to get some rest.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, Marion awoke from the sound of hoof clatter in the courtyard.

‘The King and Queen are leaving,’ Guy said. He was standing by the window, already in his chain mail. ‘The rest of the nobles will follow throughout the day.’ He turned towards her. ‘How are you feeling?’

She gave him a blank look. 

‘Do you want some breakfast?’

Marion sank back into the pillows and closed her eyes again.

The rest of the day she drifted in and out of slumber. The noise from outside, where carts rattled over the cobblestones, horses whinnied and men shouted at each other, was muffled by a thick wall of fatigue. It was like there was a bubble around her, that shut her off both from the world and her own thoughts alike. She was grateful for it, buried herself deep within it. Sometimes she had a vague notion of someone coming in the room, but she couldn’t muster up enough energy to open her eyes and see who it was. The light grew dim, and still she slept.

When she finally woke up again, night had fallen. She started when she realised it was Gisburne who had roused her. He was sitting by the bed, softly shaking her by the shoulder. ‘Marion,’ he whispered. ‘Sit up. I’ve brought you something to eat.’

She noticed a plate on the nightstand beside her. The smell alone made her sick. She cast her eyes down and shook her head.

‘Do you want something else? I can ask the kitchen to prepare anything you’d like.’

She pressed her lips together.

‘At least drink something, then.’ He offered her a cup of warm wine. Impassively, she stared at it. Her throat was bone dry. But lifting her hand seemed like an almost impossible endeavour. She was so tired...

Guy frowned. ‘Are you ill? Shall I call for a physician? ... No? What is it then?’

She shrugged, as tears welled up in her eyes. She resented herself for it. She didn’t want to show him her weakness, that insufferable frailty she felt inside. But at this point, she was beyond pride. Powerless, she started weeping again.

Guy’s first reflex when he saw Marion begin to cry, was to run down to the great hall and drink himself into a stupor. But at the same time he wanted to take her in his arms and cradle her like a baby. The conflicting nature of his emotions paralysed him. How he wished he could forge his guilt towards her into anger! At least that was a feeling he knew how to handle...

But it was impossible. The memory of last night, of her tenderness, stood in the way. They had shared something. Never again would he be able to look upon her as he had done before.

‘Please, Marion. You can’t let yourself go like this. I know it is difficult, but...’ He fell silent. The situation was absurd. What could he do or say to make her feel better, when he was the one that had put her in this position in the first place?

But then, suddenly, another memory surfaced. It was more of an instinct than a clear recollection, really. Something that had been buried deep in the murky depths of his past. He’d had this sort of conversation before... 

‘Won’t you get out of bed?’ he tried. ‘Just for a little while. Clean up and change clothes. You could go to the chapel...’

Marion looked up. And for the first time, there was a glint of life in her eyes again.

‘Would you like that? To go to the chapel?’ he repeated, hopeful.

‘A bath,’ she whispered, her voice hoarse with the long silence. ‘I long for a bath.’

 

                *

 

The tub stood in a small, well-heated room. It had taken the servants forever to fill the thing, and Marion heard them grumble about having to do this task so late in the evening. But she didn’t care. All she could think about was the hot, cleansing water that awaited her. After the last kettle was emptied and aromatic herbs were sprinkled in, she expressed the wish to be alone.

When the servants were gone, Marion started undressing herself. She took off the cloak Guy had leant her. Beneath it her dress made no mystery of what had happened last night. The top part was completely torn. It didn’t matter. She had no desire to ever wear it again. She closed her eyes to chase the memory away, then peeled the thing off of her and threw it to the side. Her underskirt was even worse. It had been reduced to a mere rag, drenched in sweat, and she shivered when it slid to her feet.

Naked, Marion stood in the steam-filled room. She breathed deeply in and out. She could still smell him on her skin. Could smell her own scent, mixed together with his. Other images of last night started surfacing. Her eyes wandered to the places where his hands had touched her, his lips had kissed her. Hastily she walked over to the tub, and immersed herself in the fragrant water. It washed over her wary, abused body like a soothing balm. 

She let herself float for a while. It was nice to feel so light. She looked up at the ceiling, while her mind wandered. She always used to do this, at home in Leaford Grange, when she was still a girl. Oh, how she had dreamt of great adventures then! Of knights in shining armour, travels to far-off lands, of fables and magic. And of the man who would become her one great love... 

She took a deep breath and submerged herself completely. Eyes closed, she listened to the sound of her own heartbeat. She had never really travelled, but there had been more than enough adventure in her life. And she had learnt that a woman sometimes knew more than one great love. But for all her imagination, she could never have foreseen the terrible price she would have to pay for it. And what of the knights in shining armour? Well, she had one of those now, didn’t she? 

She came up again, gasping for air, and brushed the water from her eyes. Then she took the wash-cloth and slowly started cleaning herself. As the dirt came off, she wished she could wash away last night’s memories as easily. Scrub at them until they were completely removed from her brain. But she knew it was in vain. The King and Queen had proven themselves masters of cruelty. They had given her no option but to lie with Gisburne, thereby forcing her to assist in her own rape. The guilt Marion felt was overwhelming. Intellectually, she knew that her actions had been for the right reasons. She had saved the people she loved. But the question was: could she ever love herself again? 

She had seduced Gisburne. Actively convinced him to take her into his bed. And she had done so in the only way she knew: with love and care. 

It had proven a bitter mistake...

For Guy’s reaction had been a complete surprise. She had always thought him so cold. Lustful, yes, but cold. A brute that took his women like stallions mounted their mares: quick, domineering and impersonal. But it hadn’t been anything like that... He had wanted her kiss more than any other stimulation, responding to her tenderness like a man in the desert would to water. And then it had all spiralled out of control...

Marion put her hands around her knees and shuddered with shame. Last night was a stain that ran so deep, it could never be washed away.

She thought of Robert. Oh, what she would give to have him here now! For his strong arms to hold her, for him to tell her everything was all right, even if she knew that wasn’t true. He had such a lust for life. Such almost child-like optimism and cheerfulness. She smiled when she thought of his gentle eyes, of the dimples in his cheeks when he laughed. A child of the summer, bright an beautiful.

_But how will he feel about me, now I have slept with his worst enemy?_

Would he be disgusted with her? Reminded of Guy’s hands on her body, every time he touched her? 

She realised there would have to be secrets between them from now on, for she could never tell him what truly transpired last night. And what if... My God, what if she was _pregnant_?

Marion sat in the tub, while her thoughts ran in circles. And as the fire started burning low, she got more and more desperate.


	8. Chapter 8

By the next morning, Guy was getting desperate as well. His muscles were sore form sleeping in the chair again, and Marion still showed no signs of improvement. He had hoped the bath would revive her a little. She had seemed so keen on it. But the whole thing had ended up with the servant girls having to pull her from the stone-cold water, where she had been sitting for hours, shivering uncontrollably and totally lost in her own thoughts.

He didn’t know what to do anymore. So he turned to the only person he could think of.

‘I fear she is broken, my lord,’ he told the Sheriff.

‘Broken?’ De Rainault was sitting behind his desk, scribbling on some parchment or other. When he heard Guy’s grave tone, he scoffed. ‘What nonsense is that? She’s not a cart axle, Gisburne!’

‘I tell you she is broken!’ Guy repeated vehemently. ‘She won’t eat, and I can barely get her to wake up!’

‘You must have tired the poor girl out,’ the Sheriff grinned. ‘Not an uncommon thing among newlyweds.’

Guy ignored the remark. ‘Do you think we should call for the physician?’

For the first time since Guy had entered the room, the Sheriff looked up from his paperwork. His smile had evaporated. ‘The physician?’ he spat. ‘Are you mad? I am not summoning a physician for that love-sick wench! An executioner would be more suitable. We’ve been trying to get her neck in a noose for over three years, and somehow she always manages to wriggle out.’ He pushed his chair back and stood up, waving the parchment in Gisburne’s face. ‘Do you know what this is, hmm? This is the pardon for Robert of Huntingdon. The King left it to me to write it out, like some glorified clerk! And I’ve had to do the same for the others. They are walking free, all of them, just because the King wanted his revenge on that poor, broken Marion of yours.’

‘And because the Queen wanted her revenge on me,’ Guy added. Too late he realised that maybe it was not such a good idea to bring this up.

‘Yes, I am aware of that, Gisburne,’ the Sheriff sighed. ‘We suffer the consequences of _your_ stupidity daily, don’t we?’

Guy remained silent.

De Rainault threw the parchment back onto the desk. His eyes fell on the little chest next to his writing equipment, and his mood improved again. ‘Well, at least the King saw it fit to give me a compensation for my troubles, this time.’ He let his fingers run over the inlayed jewels. ‘And the joy of seeing you... _relishing_ in your own prize, considerably softened the blow as well.’ He started grinning again.

‘Is Huntingdon leaving today?’ Guy inquired, eager to change the subject.

‘Yes. He’s to go back to his father and stay there under house-arrest, until the Earl pays the King. The captain will leave with the escort in an hour’s time. I would ask you to take the command, but... Well, I fear a visit to Huntingdon castle might not be so beneficial to your health just now, eh Gisburne?’

Guy gave him a sullen look. ‘And the others?’

‘They will be set loose as soon as Huntingdon is delivered and the soldiers are back in Nottingham. I am not taking any risks.’

‘You think they will still return to Sherwood now they are free men?’

The Sheriff shrugged. ‘Without a leader, the group will quickly disperse. We’ve seen that before. So it will all depend on Huntingdon. Whether he wants to come back and fight for the common people again, or come back and fight for Marion instead.’ He squinted his eyes and said: ‘The King is no fool, Gisburne. He knows very well that by giving Marion to you, he has taken the soul of Robin Hood’s band away. And with a bit of luck, Huntingdon will be so blinded by jealousy and anger, he will become reckless and meet his doom in the process.’

Guy considered this for a moment. The Sheriff could well be right. If Huntingdon was foolish enough to challenge him out in the open, in a fight from man to man, that brat stood no chance. He was a much better swordsman than the spoiled son of the Earl. Guy found himself hoping it would come to that. And soon.

‘But what about Marion?’ he said, suddenly remembering why he had sought the Sheriff’s advice in the first place. ‘She is very unwell...’

‘Oh, she is not dying!’ De Rainault cut him short. ‘She is pining over Huntingdon, that’s all. I say let her suffer. She deserves it, and more!’ Then he added, distrustfully: ‘How sensitive you are, Gisburne. I never would’ve guessed.’

Guy gave a curt bow to avoid his piercing gaze, and then fled to the stables. He thought about what De Rainault had said. Then he took one of his most reliable servants aside and whispered: ‘Call for the physician, but send him directly to my chamber. I don’t want the Sheriff to know he is here. Understand?’

The man nodded and ran to get his horse.


	9. Chapter 9

‘Marion... Marion... !’

Marion moaned and buried her face in the pillow.

‘Marion, can you hear me!’

She frowned. The shouts were coming from the courtyard. That voice...

‘I will come back for you! Don’t despair, Marion, I will come back!’

With a gasp she jumped out of bed and ran to the window. She was just in time to catch a glimpse of Robert’s blond hair, before he disappeared through the gate. He was on horse-back, with a large escort of mounted soldiers around him.

‘Robert!’ she shouted, at the top of her voice. ‘Robert!!!’

She turned around, put a cloak over her nightgown and flung the door open. Bare-foot, she ran through the corridors. She hurried down the stairs, as servants and soldiers jumped to the side.

When she reached the courtyard the cold November air struck her face. It was drizzling, and her feet slid over the cobblestones as she started making for the gate. But she ran straight into Gisburne’s arms.

‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’ he started.

‘Let me go!’ She struggled to break free and yelled, looking past him: ‘Robert!’

‘He’s gone.’

‘Robert!!!’

‘He’s gone!’

She realised he was right. Blistering, she turned her attention to Guy. ‘Why didn’t you tell me he was here?’ she screamed, pummelling him on the arms and chest. ‘I thought he’d been sent to Huntingdon straight away! You should have told me he was still _here_!’ 

Everyone in the courtyard was now gawking at them.

‘Stop it! You’re making a spectacle of yourself!’ He started pulling her towards the castle again.

‘No!!!’ She fought him with all her might. 

He was amazed at her fury, especially after the lifelessness she had displayed the last couple of days.

‘Calm down!’ he yelled, tightening his grip.

‘I have to tell Robert I’m all right!’ she protested.

But her attempts to break loose were becoming feebler. The exertion was finally getting to her, and she felt light in the head from the lack of food. As the courtyard began to spin around her, she grabbed onto Guy’s collar and desperately tried to stay on her feet. She closed her eyes for a moment, waiting for the feeling to pass.

When she opened them again, she found herself looking straight into Guy’s. Their faces were just inches apart. As she held on to his gaze, she saw his pupils dilate. But she’d rather die than back away now.

‘I have to let Robert know I’m all right!’ she repeated fiercely, moving even closer. 

He tried to stare her down, but couldn’t help flinching. ‘But you aren’t all right, are you?’ he snapped, trying to save face.

Sighing, she turned her head, moving away from the intimacy of their embrace. ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘But I have to tell Robert I am anyway. I can’t bear to think he’ll worry about me the whole way to Huntingdon.’

‘It is too late. They are gone.’

‘Not far! If I take a horse I can still catch up with them...’

‘What? In this condition? In your _nightgown_?’

She looked at him, all defiance. ‘Get me a horse,’ she ordered. ‘Or you’ll have to drag me kicking and screaming from this courtyard. In my _nightgown_.’ And without further warning, she opened her cloak and dropped it to the ground. A gasp went through the crowd.

Guy grabbed the cloak and quickly covered her up again. ‘Are you mad? You’ll catch your death in this weather!’ But she could see it was not the weather he was worried about. He was all flustered. ‘Have you no decency!’ he whispered to her.

‘You speak to me of decency?’ she scoffed.

He gave her a dark look.

She lifted her chin. ‘Well, will you let me go then?’

‘No,’ he answered. ‘That’s out of the question.’

She went to disrobe herself a second time, but Guy stopped her short. ‘ _I_ will go,’ he told her.  
She looked up at him in surprise.

He shrugged, ill at ease. ‘Well,’ he grumbled. ‘What do you want me to tell him?’

She hesitated for a moment. Then she whispered: ‘Just... just tell him I’m all right.’

‘That is all?’

She nodded.

‘And you will go back inside then?’

‘Yes.’

‘Hm.’

He gave her a last vexed look and then went to get his horse. 

Dumbfounded, Marion watched as her husband rode out of the courtyard, on his way to deliver a message to her lover.

Guy couldn’t believe he was doing this. He had absolutely no desire to meet Huntingdon, save if they should both have their swords drawn. But how could he refuse Marion? He was forever in her debt. 

He sighed. What a mystery that woman was. So frail and sweet on the one hand, so proud and formidable on the other. If he thought of how she had resisted him just now, even in her weakened state... A familiar feeling began to stir in his lower belly. Hurriedly, he spurred Fury into a gallop.

It didn’t take him long to catch up with the convoy.

‘My lord?’ inquired the Captain, surprised to see his superior. ‘Has there been a change in orders?’

‘No,’ Guy barked. ‘I have to speak to the prisoner. Alone.’

He led Fury towards Robert’s grey, and waited for the soldiers to move away. The men positioned themselves in a big circle, just out of earshot. Or at least Guy hoped they were out of earshot. This wasn’t the sort of conversation he wanted his subordinates to overhear.

Guy and Robert looked each other in the eye.

The latter was pale and trembling with rage.

‘Gisburne,’ he spat, barely louder than a whisper. ‘If my hands weren’t tied right now...’

‘You’d be dead,’ Guy replied coldly. ‘Save your threats. They don’t impress me.’

Robert gritted his teeth. He was panting, all his muscles tense. He braced himself for what the knight was about to say. Had he come to gloat? If so, why not do it while he was still in Nottingham? Why ride after him like this? Unless there was a new development... Robert felt his blood curdle.

_She’s pregnant_ , he thought. _Or dead. She’s killed herself. No, he murdered her, to get rid of her!_

‘She asked me to tell you she’s all right,’ Guy cut to the chase.

Robert exhaled audibly. ‘What?’

‘You heard me.’

He frowned. ‘How can she be all right?’

Guy’s face was like a mask. ‘It’s what she asked me to say.’

‘But is she? Really?’

He smirked. ‘That’s no longer of your concern, is it?’ He beckoned the soldiers. ‘She is _my_ wife now, Huntingdon.’

He turned Fury around. Behind him, Robert shouted: ‘You’re delusional if you think you can keep her with you, Gisburne! I will come back for her. And then she will no longer be your wife, but your _widow_!’

As he rode back to Nottingham, Guy pictured the moment he would drive his sword deep into Robert of Huntingdon’s chest. It wouldn’t be long now...


	10. Chapter 10

The moment Guy entered the room, Marion came running towards him.

‘Did you tell him?’ she inquired anxiously.

‘Yes.’ Guy brushed past her, took off his gloves and threw them on the table.

‘Well?’

‘Well what?’

‘Did he believe you?’

Guy glanced at her. Her eyes were wide with worry and hope.

‘Yes,’ he lied.

She seemed to relax a little. ‘How did he look?’

‘I don’t know. The same as always, I guess.’ He turned away from her again. 

But she followed him, like some swift and terribly annoying mosquito. She tried to catch his gaze. ‘Was he hurt?’

‘He’s not been harmed.’

‘And?’

‘...’

‘Can’t you tell me anything more!’ she exclaimed.

‘Like what?’

‘Did he say anything else, for example?’

Guy looked up and gave her a half-smile. Then he answered: ‘Yes. He said he was going to kill me.’

‘O.’ She fell silent, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.

‘Don’t worry. It’s not like he stands a chance against _me_.’ Then he raised his eyebrows and added: ‘But I guess that’s what you’re worried about in the first place.’

Marion gave him an unimpressed look. She turned around and walked over to the window. There she stood for a while, looking at the comings and goings below, while her mind drifted.

Guy wondered if he should leave. He had work to do, and she certainly wouldn’t miss him. But he couldn’t bring himself to just go.

‘The others are still here, you know,’ he somehow blurted out.

‘What others?’

‘Little John, Scarlet... you know... The other wolfsheads.’ He shrugged. 

‘Don’t call them that!’ she snapped.

‘Sorry.’

He had no idea why he had told her. Surely, now she would ask to go and see them. And he didn’t feel comfortable with that at all! But it was like his mouth led a life of its own, because he heard himself say: ‘Shall I arrange a visit to the dungeons?’

Marion put her hands on the edge of the window sill. The rough stone brazed her palms. She felt her heart beat faster. Her friends... here! A part of her longed to see them, of course. But she cringed when she thought about actually facing them. When Robert had called for her, she had run after him in the heat of the moment. But if she was honest, she was relieved that she had missed him. For what would she have said to him anyway? Could she have borne to see the look in his eyes when he cast them upon her? No, all things considered, she was glad things had gone down the way they had, and Guy had taken care of the first confrontation with Robert for her. She just wasn’t ready for it yet. And she wasn’t ready for her friends either...

‘No,’ she whispered, defeated. ‘I... I don’t want to see them.’

Guy didn’t understand. Why wouldn’t she want to pay a visit to the wolfsheads? They were her friends, weren’t they? Or was Robert the only one she really cared about? 

_She is probably feeling poorly again_ , he thought. _Too tired to walk downstairs._

Yes, that had to be it. 

‘Maybe you should lay down a little,’ he suggested. ‘After all that commotion. Don’t forget you nearly swooned...’

‘I guess...’

He was surprised to hear her agree to something he said. In an impulse, he asked: ‘Shall I have some food brought up?’

She shrugged. ‘Why not.’

It was like someone had lifted a huge weight from his chest. ‘Good,’ he nodded. ‘That’s... very good. I will instruct the servants.’

But just as he was about to walk away, Marion turned around and said: ‘Thank you, Guy. For riding out to talk to him, I mean.’

Guy felt a strange, almost queasy sensation when he heard her speak his given name. In a flash he was back in _that_ moment, two nights ago. What she had said to him then...

_I want you, Guy. I need you. There has never been a woman in the world that needed a man as much as I need you now..._

He didn’t know where to look. ‘It was nothing,’ he mumbled.

She gave him a sad smile.

Guy bowed and left the room, feeling more confused than ever.


	11. Chapter 11

Robert couldn’t believe it. He had been trying to speak with his father in private all day, ever since he arrived in the castle. But the Earl was an assiduous man. There was business that had to be attended to: papers needed urgent signing, justice had to be spoken, and advice needed to be bestowed. Even the return of a wayward son couldn’t interfere with that. Robert had impatiently waited until the swarm of people that constantly seemed to hover around his father had dissipated. And now he finally had the Earl to himself, this was the man’s answer?

‘You mean to say you will leave her there? Not lift a finger?’ he exclaimed.

The Earl of Huntingdon gave him a stern look. ‘There is nothing I can do, son. She is married to another.’

‘Married!’ Robert spat. ‘You dare call that atrocity a marriage?’

‘The King approved it. From what you tell me he even enforced it. And it was consummated. Therefore it is legal and official.’

‘And totally immoral. She was forced into it!’

‘Which is usually the case,’ his father simply replied. ‘What noblewoman — or –man, for that matter —gets to choose their spouse freely?’ He beckoned the servant for more wine. 

When he saw the look in his son’s eyes, he sighed and said: ‘I am sorry you are hurting, boy. It is not easy when one has... _feelings_ for a woman. But you have to realise they are _just_ feelings. They will pass eventually. The sooner you accept the situation, the sooner it will happen. Until then, put your mind on something else: go out hunting, practice your swordsmanship, school yourself in strategy and politics... A man has to learn how to control his passions, if he wants to become someone in life.’

Robert was so shocked he could barely speak. ‘My God. You’re _glad_ this happened, aren’t you?’ he whispered. ‘You want me to stay here and be the good son again. Follow in your footsteps!’

The Earl put his goblet down and laid his hand on Robert’s shoulder. His typical — and only — way of showing affection. ‘You should be glad the King pardoned you, Robert. You have a unique chance to rebuild your life again. A chance to undo the dreadful mistakes of your past. Take it with both hands!’

Robert stepped back, disgusted. ‘Have you no shame? How can you sit there and ask me to abandon the woman I love? To leave her in the clutches of that brute? Surely, you must know what Gisburne is like!’

For the first time, the Earl showed some signs of discomfiture. ‘It is true lady Leaford has made an unfortunate alliance,’ he admitted, shifting in his seat. ‘I don’t know sir Guy well, but I knew his father. He was...’ He hesitated. For a moment his eyes did not see the room before him, but things that happened a long time ago. Then he blinked and regained his poise. ‘Edmund of Gisburne was a man unworthy to carry the title of knight,’ he continued. ‘And it seems his son takes after him. But that is not of your concern anymore, Robert!’

‘That is exactly what Gisburne told me!’

‘And he is right. As her husband, he is the only one who has a say about her now.’ The Earl shook his head. ‘Don’t worry yourself too much about the girl, son. You have to admit she was ill-suited for you anyway. Besides, she’ll adjust to her new life soon enough. Trust me. It will not be long before she has a child, and then she will be happy in her own way. After all, that is the greatest love any woman could ever hope for.’

Robert felt like he was going to be sick. ‘Can’t you hear yourself, father?’ he said, his voice trembling. ‘The nonsense that you speak!’

‘Robert!’

‘Happy in her own way? Living with a man she feels nothing for but loathing? Being forced to bear his children?’ He swallowed hard. He wanted to shout, to scream at the top of his lungs: ‘ _Is that the lie you told yourself, father, all those years ago, when you surrendered your beloved to Edmund of Gisburne? That she could still somehow be_ happy _with that monster?_ ’

But he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. The reluctance to openly humiliate his own father was still too great. So he gritted his teeth and hissed: ‘You have no idea of the pain and suffering your warped logic has caused, father.’

The Earl gave him a puzzled look. But Robert didn’t stick around to wait for his reaction. While he stormed out of the room, he realised his father had become a complete stranger to him. He had always been a stern, taciturn man, but never unjust. As a boy, Robert had looked up to him as much as he had feared him. It was a bitter disappointment to discover how closed off and cowardly he actually was.

_If you won’t help me, old man_ , he thought, _I’ll do it myself. There are plenty of people that will stand by me. People I am proud to call my friends. And that is something you will never understand!_

He made for the stables. The ransom had not been paid yet, but he wouldn’t wait for that. The Earl could choose to fulfil it, or not. He didn’t care. Marion needed him. And he would fight for her. Whether she was “officially” married or not. He refused to repeat his father’s mistake...

But Robert was in for a nasty surprise. His father might have become a stranger to him, the Earl still seemed to know him quite well. Wary of his son’s rebellious nature, he had taken his precautions. So when Robert asked for his horse, the servants did not obey. Instead, they looked on with embarrassment as the son of their master was apprehended by his own soldiers. Fuming, Robert was escorted back to his room. There he was locked, on his father’s orders, until the ransom would have been paid and he’d had “time to come to his senses.”


	12. Chapter 12

The morning after Robert was caged in his own bedchamber, the outlaws were released from the Nottingham dungeons. Only, they were not outlaws anymore. They stood in the small streets of the city as free men, and looked up at the castle walls. The sky was of a dull, milky grey, and cold rain drizzled down on their faces.

Will was the first who spoke.

‘Now what?’ he said, to nobody in particular.

‘Back to Sherwood?’ Much suggested.

‘What, and leave Marion here?’

‘Marion...’ Tuck mumbled, and he bowed his head in grief. John put a comforting arm around his friend’s shoulders.

‘I don’t understand why she hasn’t come to see us,’ Much wondered. ‘She was in the castle when we were there.’

‘Because Gisburne didn’t let her, of course!’ Will shook his fist. ‘If I get my hands on that swine...’

‘We have to meet up with Robert,’ Little John said gravely. ‘He is the only one that can decide what to do next.’

‘And Marion?’ Nasir asked.

But before John had the chance to answer, Will spoke again. ‘I say we _do_ get back to Sherwood, and the next time Gisburne rides through, we shoot him right off of that black horse of his. Then Marion will be free to do as she pleases.’

‘We can’t, Will,’ John sighed.

‘Is it the armour you’re worried about? Speak for yourself! I’ll put an arrow straight through his eye, I will!’

‘I mean we _mustn’t_!’

‘ _What?!_ ’ Will grabbed the big man by the collar. ‘You’d spare him? After _this_? You’re mad!’

‘We have to leave it up to _Robert_!’ John boomed. ‘We can’t take the opportunity for vengeance away from him. He has to get the chance to kill Gisburne himself, or he’ll never find peace again!’

As John’s words sank in, the intensity of Will’s gaze faltered. Slowly, he released his grip.

‘Do you understand, Will?’ John asked.

Will nodded reluctantly. ‘Yes. I suppose you’re right.’ He bit his thumb, thinking hard. ‘But John, how can we just leave her there?’ His tone was almost pleading now.

‘Well we can hardly walk in and grab her, can we?’ John commented. ‘Robert will know what to do. He’s probably already on his way back here. I doubt he’ll wait for the ransom to be paid.’ 

‘And in the mean time?’

John rubbed his beard. ‘As free men we can go anywhere we like. I say we stay in Wickham. Edward won’t mind putting us up for a while. We can wait for Robert there.’

‘I will ride towards Huntingdon and meet him half-way,’ Nasir said.

John nodded and turned his attention to Much. ‘You stay here in Nottingham with your grandfather, Much, and keep and eye on the castle. See what you can find out about Marion. Let us know how she’s doing.’

‘Poor little flower,’ Tuck whimpered. ‘God only knows the state she must be in...’

That was enough to make them all fall silent again.


	13. Chapter 13

Meanwhile, in Nottingham Castle, Guy was relieved to see Marion was doing a little better. She had refused to let the physician anywhere near her, but she was eating again, and today she’d even allowed the servants to dress her — if not entirely properly. They had fitted her with a spare gown. It was too large, and did nothing for her complexion. He should really call for the tailor. Or have some of her old gowns brought down from Leaford. His wife couldn’t be seen in hand-me-downs of the wives of the lower nobles! But he was afraid to suggest it. Because for all the lip he had given Huntingdon about Marion being _his_ now, he knew it was ludicrous to believe she would actually stay with him. By now, he understood very well that she was too much of a free spirit to be tied down by convention. The legality of their marriage would not stop her from running off to Sherwood again. Each time he returned to his chamber, he feared he would find it empty. The only reason he could think of why she hadn’t tried anything yet, was that she was still too dazed to even think about it. So the last thing he wanted to do was to put her attention on dresses, or anything else that could bring up the subject of her staying here for a longer period of time.

He watched her carefully as she sat across from him at the breakfast table. He didn’t want to expose her to the Sheriff yet, so they were having the meal in his chamber. She was thoughtlessly tearing small pieces from the bread on her plate and slowly putting them in her mouth. When she noticed him staring at her, she scoffed and said: ‘My God. You look like death.’

He lifted his eyebrows. ‘Thanks.’

‘I don’t understand why you don’t just give me my own room. There are plenty of spare ones in the castle. After all, you must long to sleep in your bed again.’

‘That’s true.’ He stretched his aching back. The last couple of days he had gotten to know every dent and dimple in that blasted chair.

‘Well, why don’t you?’

‘What?’

‘Put me in another room!’

‘Oh no,’ he protested. ‘I couldn’t do that...’

‘Why not?’

‘Look I... I just don’t want that, all right?’

She snorted and shook her head. ‘Fine.’

They sat together in silence again. But Guy’s heart was beating like a drum. Was she planning her escape already? For a moment he considered putting guards by the door, but what good would that do? He couldn’t have her watched twenty-four seven for the rest of their lives. Besides, if she really wanted to go, what right did he have to stop her? 

_I just hope it is not today_ , he thought. _Not yet._

‘Pass me the butter, will you,’ she motioned.

He handed it to her.

And then there was a knock on the door, and he knew it was all over. 

‘Sir Richard of Leaford is here, my lord,’ the soldier announced. ‘He is waiting in the Great Hall for you and the Lady Marion.’

Guy felt his heart sink. The moment had come. She would leave with her father for Leaford. But before he could say or do anything, Marion grabbed him by the arm. Her face was pale with shock. ‘I don’t want to see him!’ she panicked. ‘Please, Guy, send him away!’

Bewildered, he looked back at her. ‘Why not? What’s the matter?’

‘I just don’t.’ Tears welled up in her eyes. ‘Please! You must understand...’

He didn’t. But he understood he couldn’t resist her pleading look any longer. ‘All right,’ he whispered. ‘Calm yourself. I will go alone.’

She sighed with relief.

But when he got up, she tightened her grip again. ‘Promise me you won’t bring him here,’ she begged. Her touch seemed to burn straight through his chain-mail. ‘Promise me!’

‘I promise.’

Dumbfounded, Guy left the room and made for the Great Hall.

‘Ah! Gisburne!’ The Sheriff awaited him with a gleeful expression on his face. He was at breakfast as well, and his nonchalant demeanour couldn’t be further from that of the elderly knight that was standing in front of him. ‘Your father-in-law has come to pay you a visit!’ he crooned.

Sir Richard turned around, his face red with emotion. ‘Where’s my daughter?’ he shouted. ‘Where’s Marion?’

‘Sir Richard,’ Guy nodded.

‘Where is she!’

‘In our chamber. I’m afraid she doesn’t want to come down.’

‘My God, what have you done to her!’ Sir Richard looked like he was ready to draw his sword. Guy suppressed the instinct to reach for his own. He had no lust to fight with that fossil. He’d kill him in two seconds. The man was ancient! Besides, he was sure that wasn’t what Marion had meant when she asked him to stop her father from coming up. 

‘Come come, sir Richard,’ the Sheriff intervened. ‘Gisburne hasn’t done anything a husband shouldn’t do to his wife.’ He sent the old knight a sickening grin.

‘Monsters! That’s what you are, the both of you!’ sir Richard hissed. 

‘She is quite well, you know,’ Guy tried.

‘I’ll be the judge of that! Take me to her at once!’

‘She doesn’t want to see you,’ he insisted, colder now.

‘Impossible!’

‘Sir, I assure you...’

‘Your word means nothing to me, Gisburne! I command you to take me to her. Or do you think you can lord me around already, just because you will be master over my lands one day? Well, that day hasn’t come yet! There are a great many things that can happen between now and the moment of my demise, _boy_.’

Guy was beginning to reconsider his decision to refrain from violence. That senile fool was really starting to get on his nerves.

‘I won’t leave until I’ve seen her with my own eyes!’ sir Richard bellowed.

The Sheriff had been following the discussion with gusto. ‘I guess you’ll have to take him up then, Gisburne,’ he sneered. ‘God knows I’m not having him standing around in my Hall all day.’

Guy gave de Rainault a poisonous look. The Sheriff could easily have Leaford removed from the castle. But he wouldn’t, of course. He was enjoying this far too much.

Meanwhile, sir Richard was already making his way out of the Hall. With a sigh, Guy ran after him. 

‘Wait! Let me alert her first,’ he yelled, taken by surprise by the speed with which the old goat was climbing the stairs.

He caught up with him and tried to block the doorway, but sir Richard brushed him aside with one big swoop of his arm and then burst into the bedroom. 

‘Father!’ Marion yelled, her eyes big with shock.

‘My dear child,’ sir Richard wailed. He ran towards her and wanted to take her in his arms, but she warded him off and backed away. ‘What’s the matter? Why do you recoil?’

‘I... I can’t, father,’ she stammered, as she averted her eyes. ‘Please.’

‘Marion, my dear,’ he whispered, gently taking her hand in his. ‘Don’t fret. Your troubles are over now. I’ve come to take you home with me, to Leaford.’

Guy tensed up. He knew sir Richard couldn’t take her without his permission. Marion was his wife by law, and therefore he had full control over her. But he knew all she would have to do was ask, and he would let her go. So he remained silent, and waited for the inevitable.

Marion swallowed. ‘But... what about the King?’

‘I’ll appeal to him,’ sir Richard said. ‘I’ll give him my lands, the Grange, all I own, if it will get you out of this marriage. He must know it is unjust. He must!’

‘Maybe. But I’m sure Guy will never agree, will you, Guy?’ She looked at him, and her eyes made perfectly clear what she wanted him to answer.

He couldn’t believe it. Why was she doing this?

But he followed her lead, and shook his head.

‘By God!’ yelled sir Richard. ‘Then I will challenge that brute to a duel and free you from him here and now!’ The old knight turned around and drew his sword in a majestic movement. The sound of the blade coming out of the sheath rang through the room.

‘Father, don’t be foolish!’ Marion grabbed his arm. ‘You’re over sixty! At that age a duel is not even lawful anymore!’

‘I will not have my grandchildren sired by that villain!’

‘I... I want to stay here!’ she exclaimed.

Sir Richard lowered his sword. ‘What?’

‘I _want_ to,’ she repeated.

‘But... _Why_?’

She let go of him and turned her head. ‘I can’t handle the life in Sherwood anymore,’ she lied. ‘The fear of losing my friends. Just days ago, we were all to be executed! The King offered me a way out, and I took it. Willingly. I made a promise before God. And I won’t break it now!’

‘Marion, you can’t mean this...’ he whispered. ‘ _Gisburne_... he is...’

‘He’s a good husband to me. He treats me well. And I’ll be much safer with him than I ever was in Sherwood.’

Astonished, sir Richard glared at Guy. The latter looked almost equally stunned. 

Marion managed to force a little smile. ‘You can leave me here with an easy heart, father. I promise you.’

Sir Richard blinked a couple of times, while he tried to come to terms with this information. Finally, he whispered, in a hoarse voice: ‘If that is what you want, who am I to stand in your way?’ 

Marion nodded. ‘Thank you, father. Your concern is heart-warming. But you understand if I bid you goodbye now? I am still a bit tired from all the commotion of the last few days.’

Sir Richard nodded, speechless with consternation. Trembling, he patted her on the back of her hand, and stood up. It was as if he had aged ten years in the last ten minutes. As a man in a dream, he walked out of the room. Gisburne escorted him back to the stables. They didn’t speak a word to each other. When the old knight got on his horse, Guy said coldly: ‘Send her gowns over, won’t you? She has almost nothing to wear.’

Sir Richard gave him a last, appalled look, and rode off.

When Guy got back to the room, he found Marion sitting in a ball on the bed. ‘You promised me you would keep him away!’ she yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘You promised!!!’

 

*

 

He’d given her a room of her own. It was just across from his. It was a lot smaller and there was no window in it. She had picked it herself, thinking it would be like a safe burrow for her to hide in. But now she was here, she felt more cooped up than ever. Her dinner stood on the table cold and untouched. And suddenly a feeling of complete and utter loneliness washed over her. She felt so odd. Sluggish, almost. Like her body was not her own, and she was moving though a thick, clear syrup instead of air. She staggered to the bed and threw herself down. She wanted to cry, but she was too tired. The ordeal with her father had worn her out. She was completely exhausted. Why hadn’t she gone back to Leaford? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she felt sick just thinking about it. The idea of walking those familiar corridors after what had happened, was somehow unbearable. Just as unbearable as the presence of her father had been. She loved him, but she just couldn’t _deal_ with him right now. He didn’t fit the state of mind she was in. Her father belonged to fond childhood memories, to feelings of safety and happiness. She needed him to think of her as he had done before, not look at her and picture the humiliations she had suffered. For him to be around her in this instance, well, it... _muddled_ things up. She couldn’t describe it any differently. He expected her to behave in a certain way, to _be_ a certain way, and she couldn’t do that anymore. She couldn’t be _that_ Marion for him. In fact, she didn’t know if she would ever be able to again. Something inside of her had changed profoundly. She hardly recognised herself anymore. How could he possibly understand? Or anyone else for that matter? How could anyone really know what she had gone through?

Marion closed her eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come. She felt almost drunk with fatigue.

And then, she realised something.

_There is someone who can.._

Yes, ironically, only one person _really_ could...

 

*

 

Guy awoke from the sound of his door gently opening. But he didn’t go for his dagger. He knew who it was...

He felt the mattress move when she climbed in bed beside him.

‘I don’t want to be alone,’ she whispered. ‘Can I stay here?’

A million different thoughts ran through his head at that moment, but all he said was: ‘If you wish.’

She fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. He didn’t turn around, afraid he might accidently touch her. But he could hear the sound of her breathing. He stayed awake listening to it for hours.


	14. Chapter 14

That night, Robert lay awake as well, but for the exact opposite reason as his brother. He missed the sound of Marion’s breathing. The little movements she made during the night. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. His room had not changed since he had left it — yet another sign his father had remained hopeful for his return. In Huntingdon, it was like last year had never happened. But it had, and it had changed _him_. He could no longer live like this, in the loneliness of wealth. It was too quiet here. Too cold. He longed for the fires of Sherwoord, the chatter of his friends, and the presence of his beloved Marion.

He thought of the night they had first made love. It had been near the end of the summer. One of those smouldering, endless days in late August, when the crickets chirped in the grass. They had been languid with the heat, and the two of them sneaked off to a little pool, deep in Sherwood. It was clear Marion had been there before, with Robin of Loxley no doubt, but he never asked and she never spoke of it. Up until that moment, their courtship had been platonic in nature. Was it the warmth of the day that still lingered in the air? The carefree frolicking they had done in the water? The scent of their drying skin as they laid down in the grass next to each other? He didn’t know. But when the last light slowly vanished from the sky and the first stars appeared, Marion had made it clear she was ready to take the next step. The moonlight threw shadows over her pale, damp skin, accentuating her elegant figure. She looked like a creature from another world. A nymph, straight out of the Greek myths. When she undid her braid and her long curls flowed freely over her shoulders, he had lost all power to think. He had pulled her close and kissed her, as tenderly as he could. She opened herself up to him, warm and complete in her welcome now she had finally made her decision.

As the memories came rushing back, Robert felt his manhood swell. He put his hand under the sheets and touched himself.

A little embarrassed, he remembered he had been too quick, that first time. He couldn’t help it. He had waited for so long... But when his first passion was quenched, he had more than made up for it. He sighed when he recalled the taste of Marion’s mouth, the soft skin of her neck and her little, red earlobes. Her breasts were smaller than he usually fancied, but they fitted her frame perfectly and he wouldn’t have changed them for the world. Oh, and her nipples, so soft and pink...

As Robert’s hand moved ever faster, he imagined Marion moving in his lap, like she had done that night. She was sitting on top of him, giving him a divine view on her body. The frown of pleasure on her pretty face was one of the most arousing things he had ever seen in his life.

He was groaning now, the sheets rustling back and forth. 

But then the image before Robert’s eyes altered dramatically. Suddenly, it was no longer himself, but _Gisburne_ he saw straddled between Marion’s thighs! Appalled, he watched as she struggled to free herself. But that bastard moved his upper body towards her and caged her in his arms. With a lascivious grin, he pressed his lips onto hers. Revolted, she tried to turn her head to the side. But she could not escape him. His tongue brutally forced its way into her mouth, while he continued pushing her down onto his cock. She panted desperately, her brow furrowed with pain. Gisburne grinned. He grasped her curls in one hand and tugged at them violently, snapping her head back so hard it made her yell. Her breasts lay unprotected before him now. He put his mouth around a nipple, and started suckling it with malevolent determination. Marion whimpered. Her hips were still glued to his, forced to follow his movements in a vulgar parody of lovemaking. She struggled frantically, her buttocks quivering as she tried to get away. But he was too strong, too fired up with lust. He released her nipple and pushed her head forward again, towards his, until their foreheads touched. He kept her there, smiling arrogantly, as he forced her to look in his eyes while he fucked her. His thrusts became faster, and his free hand grabbed her breast so savagely that his ring scratched her skin. Red droplets trickled down. He licked off the blood, relishing it like some animal. Then he pulled her towards him again, his both arms around her in an iron embrace. He pushed and pushed, and then, with a violent contraction of his hips, he pumped his semen deep inside of her. Marion cried out in pain and fright.

And so did Robert. With a scream, he opened his eyes. His manhood hung limp in his hands. He threw off the sheets, jumped out of bed and stumbled to the window, desperate for air. It was like someone had punched him in the stomach. He was completely winded. Sweat glistened on his brow. He had no idea his imagination was capable of creating such a bleak, perverse scene. Panting, he looked up at the moon. What was Marion doing now, he wondered. Was she sleeping? Or was she...? Was he...?

He blinked violently, in a futile attempt to chase the images away. But he knew they would remain etched on his retina forever.

_Herne_ , he whispered desperately. _Please, Herne, protect her! Keep her safe until I can get to her. And help me... Help me kill that man, once and for all! Only the spilling of his blood can begin to wash away the pain..._


	15. Chapter 15

In Nottingham Castle, everybody was at Sunday worship. A weekly ordeal for the most of them, and Guy was no exception. He abhorred it with a vengeance, this mandatory hour of silent reflection. He was a man of action: if he wasn’t out riding, fighting or working in one form or the other, he kept his mind blissfully numb by drinking. A lot. But on Sunday morning, there was no escaping his thoughts. 

While father Giraldus muttered on in his almost incomprehensible Latin, Guy glanced sideways, at his wife. He hoped that she at least was getting something out of this. After all, women usually seemed keen on religion. His own mother had always sought comfort in the chapel, on moments that were... difficult for her. 

Marion uttered a demure cough. Her breath made a little cloud in the cold air. She was kneeling, her hands folded in a pious gesture. She looked like an angel, but Guy couldn’t help but wonder if she was praying to God, or to that bizarre woodland sprite, Herne. Her father had sent a servant over with her personal belongings, and she was wearing a green, velvet dress. It made her eyes stand out even more than usual. You could see the forest in those eyes. No, when he came to think of it, Marion was not like his mother at all...

_Why is she staying here?_ he asked himself again. _Why did she brush off her father like that? Reject an open invitation to leave this place and go back home?_

And why on earth had she climbed back in bed with him?

The memory sent shivers up his spine. He knew what he hoped the explanation would be. But no, that was impossible...

He looked at her again, frowning. She seemed different, somehow. More composed. This morning she had even agreed to have breakfast with him and the Sheriff in the Great Hall. It was the first time she’d been in public since she tried to run after Robert in the courtyard. And now she had joined him for Mass as well. It seemed she was resolved to start partaking in normal castle life....

And suddenly, while the priest commenced the final blessing, Guy realised there could only be one plausible explanation for Marion’s behaviour. 

_She’s with child._

The mere thought took his breath away. He didn’t understand how she could be sure after such a short period of time, but he guessed women had their ways of knowing. He hadn’t been hoping for it. He had never thought of himself as a father. But he had to admit the idea Marion was carrying his baby made him feel fulfilled in some way. He knew it was cruel. It meant she’d have to stay with him, even if that made her dreadfully unhappy.

_But it means she’ll stay..._

She couldn’t go back to her lover now. What man would accept a woman who had the child of another in her belly? Especially if it that other was his worst enemy...

Guy suppressed a smile. God, this was the ultimate victory over Huntingdon! No swordfight, however glorious, could match this. Now he thought about it, it would give him a wonderful way to end their inevitable duel too. He imagined himself, right before dealing out the _coup de grâce_ , whispering the good news in Huntingdon’s ear. What a way to send him off to the next world! 

He was grinning openly now. Marion noticed it and frowned at him. He shook his head to tell her it was nothing.

At the altar, Father Giraldus finally managed to wrap things up, and the congregation got on their feet. In an impulse, Guy offered Marion his arm. She took it, without so much as a second thought. He smiled again. It felt good. No, it felt _great_. He noticed the Sheriff’s icy glare, and he didn’t even care. Marion’s presence kept him warm. He wasn’t alone anymore... 

They filed out of the church. Outside, the rabble was pushing and shoving amongst each other, hoping for some charity after Sunday Mass, as always. And as always, the Sheriff had them whipped out of the way. Marion turned her head in disgust.

‘Here,’ Guy said, as he handed her a purse of coins. ‘For the poor.’

She raised her eyebrows at this blatant attempt of getting on her good side, as he’d known she would.

But she took the money...

 

*

 

In the back of the crowd, Much stood watching, his mouth open. Why was Marion walking arm in arm with Gisburne? And why did he give her alms to hand out to the beggars? Much didn’t understand. He waited until the little procession disappeared out of sight. Then he turned and started running towards Wickham.


	16. Chapter 16

‘Nasir!’

Robert almost screamed with relief when he saw the Saracen enter his room. He had just spent another endless day full of worry and frustration, but now Herne had answered his prayers. His friends had come for him!

Both men gave each other a much needed hug.

‘Where are the others?’ Robert inquired, looking over Nasir’s shoulder. But the guards had already closed the door. And suddenly, he noticed his friend’s weapons had been removed. Of course... How typical of his father to allow Nasir into the Castle, and even to come and see him, but only after he’d been thoroughly checked and disarmed. The Earl of Huntingdon: polite when he could, but never taking unnecessary chances when he didn’t have to...

‘They are in Wickham,’ Nasir answered. ‘We were expecting you to be underway by now.’

Robert’s expression darkened. ‘My father had other plans. He won’t help me to retrieve her, Nasir. And he insists I stay here until the ransom is paid.’ 

Nasir squinted.

‘It will take some time to get the money together. And while I am stuck here, Marion is caged in with that... that _animal_!’ He turned around and made a frustrated gesture. 

‘I can help you escape,’ his friend suggested.

Robert was tempted. But he knew it was impossible. ‘We wouldn’t even get past the second gate. Huntingdon Castle is guarded ten times as good as Nottingham Castle. My father is a capable man. And at the moment, he is wary of my actions.’

Nasir raised an eyebrow. ‘What do you suggest then?’

Robert frowned as he thought things over. Then he said: ‘He can’t keep me in here forever. After the ransom is paid, he will have to let me out. And then I will not hesitate. But in the mean time, you must ride back to and inform the others of my situation.’

‘And Marion?’

‘I will give you a letter for her.’

Nasir nodded.

Robert put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘But first, rest and eat. You must be exhausted from your journey.’

 

*

 

While Nasir stretched his legs by the fire, Robert sat behind his desk and tried to think of what to write to Marion. There were a million things he wanted to say to her. How much he missed her, how much he loved her and how desperately he hoped she was all right. That she had to remain strong. That they would get through this, together. But it all sounded so futile, so generic. 

Darkness slowly crept in through the window, and Robert was still staring at the blank sheet of parchment before him. By the fire, Nasir’s breathing revealed he had fallen asleep. His own head started to grow heavy as well. But lately, his bed frightened him. The horrible images he had seen in his mind’s eye, those visions of the rape, wouldn’t leave him alone. They were always there, just waiting for him to close his eyes to creep up on him. 

Anger rose up in Robert’s heart. It reached the brim, and spilled straight out onto the parchment. He wrote the only words he was capable of right now, with curt, agitated streaks of his quill. 

 

_Dear Marion,_

_I am held captive in Huntingdon. My father will not go against the King. He means to keep me here until my ransom is paid in full. But do not despair. When all is arranged, I will come to Nottingham and challenge Gisburne to a duel._

_You probably think I shall be dissuaded because he is of my kin. (You know of what I speak.)_

_Fear not: I will slay him. And slay him good!_

_My blood boils when I think of how he defiled you. Before I am done, he’ll plead for mercy. But he’ll find none. His death will be a slow one._

_This is my promise to you._

_Sit tight,_

_Robert._

 

With a violent movement, Robert rolled up the parchment and sealed it with wax. As the first light appeared in the east, he handed it over to Nasir. 

‘See that it reaches her,’ he said. ‘I will come to Wickham as soon as I am able to. Tell the others to wait for me there. They must _not_ act on their own. Especially Will! Gisburne is _mine_.’

Nasir nodded, and Robert knocked on the door so the guards would let him out.

 

*

 

But when Nasir was gone and the long hours of the morning stretched out before him, doubt struck Robert’s heart. Suddenly, he wished he had written something different to Marion. Something that would console her more. Had he even mentioned he loved her? He couldn’t remember. He had scribbled the letter after a sleepless night, in a fit of rage and without so much as re-reading it once before sealing it.

Actually, when he came to think of it, the whole thing had been an awful idea to begin with. He trusted Nasir, but in this situation there was a good chance Gisburne would intercept the letter before it ever reached Marion. God, he hadn’t even considered that! And he’d written something about their kinship too! How could he have been so stupid? Now that bastard would stop at nothing until he had the whole truth out of her. 

Robert clenched his fists so hard, his nails dug into the flesh of his palms. 

_Oh Marion_ , he sighed. _I fear I’ve only made things worse for you!_

He cursed himself for being so careless. Lately, it was like his thinking took place through a thick cloud of pain and anger. _Sit tight_? Had he really written that? Good God!


	17. Chapter 17

In Nottingham Castle, the Sheriff was in a foul mood. The reason for this was of course the whole Gisburne-Marion fiasco. In the beginning, he had found it frightfully amusing. A marvellous twist of fate that had brightened his mood for a good couple of days. He despised the King, but he had to give the man credit for such a clever way of being cruel. But ever since sir Richard had visited Nottingham, things had taken an unforeseen, and very worrying, turn. He glanced at Marion over the brim of his goblet. They were having dinner in the Great Hall, and she was sitting by Gisburne, like a normal wife would do. It all angered the Sheriff greatly. How she ate his food, drank his wine, sat at the same table as he did. She was an outlaw! Or at least she had been. And now... He squinted. What was she up to? This vexed him most of all: the fact that he had no idea. It was an uncommon and extremely unwelcome sensation.

After her father had visited her, Marion had changed noticeably. She was still quiet, but her tears were gone and she seemed to have an inexplicable desire to be in the vicinity of her new husband at all times. She and Gisburne hardly talked — at least not when de Rainault was around to witness it — but she walked the gardens with him after dinner, joined him in the stables when he tended to his horse, and even now she was distractedly picking food out of his plate. Something Gisburne should’ve hated! He was like a dog hovering over its bowl, usually.

The Sheriff beckoned a servant for more wine, and then pulled the jar from the man’s hand when he pored too slowly. He pushed the useless oaf out of the way, filled the goblet himself and downed it in one go.

_Marion..._ he thought, as he sent her another poisonous look. That woman was proving to be a nail in his coffin. With her high-and mighty behaviour. That hadn’t changed! She didn’t react to his taunts in the slightest, and even a “Lady Gisburne”, as he called her whenever he had the chance, didn’t seem to afflict her. But, what was worse, Gisburne didn’t react to his taunts either. Lately, his deputy’s mind — if one could call it that — always seemed elsewhere.

De Rainault knew how proud Gisburne was, what an affront it should mean to him to be married to a woman scorned in the whole Kingdom. And he had felt nothing but disdain for her in the past. But somehow, that was all forgotten and of no importance anymore now. The Sheriff didn’t know what pagan tricks that wench wielded in the bedchamber, but it was clear she had made quite an impression on his impetuous deputy. The fool! Fawning over her like she could break in half at any given moment. He was completely infatuated with her, it was painfully obvious.

_It shouldn’t have surprised me_ , de Rainault snorted. After all, he’d even been prepared to marry that filthy Jewess once. When Gisburne’s passion was inflamed, all good judgment went out the window.

And yet it _had_ surprised him.

De Rainault grumbled, as he remembered the conversation they’d had, in the days after sir Richard had left.

‘Well,’ he had asked. ‘Why haven’t you sent her away with her father?’

The knight had frowned. ‘The King willed us to be married, my lord.’

‘Being married doesn’t necessarily mean you have to _live_ with each other, Gisburne.’ De Rainault knew he was handing him the solution to his ordeal, but by then the first thrill of seeing him squirm was already starting to wane, and he was sick of his deputy being so preoccupied with all this. 

Gisburne had looked at him in confusion. As usual, that idiot needed it spelled out to him. ‘Plenty of unhappily married men happily live miles away from their spouses,’ he’d explained. ‘They put them in nunneries, or abbeys, or with far away relatives. Surely, Marion leaving for Leaford would have been a good solution for you both.’ _And for me_ , he added in his mind. He had no desire to have that woman lurking around the castle indefinitely. It would be like harbouring a spy in their midst.

Gisburne clearly hadn’t considered this yet. ‘But I want her close. To... to make sure Huntingdon will come.’

It had seemed like a plausible explanation. But he could see the knight was lying. And at that point, the first red flags had started to go up in the Sheriff’s mind. ‘Don’t concern yourself, Gisburne,’ he’d answered, as he put the pieces together. ‘I’m sure Huntingdon will come, either way.’

And then his deputy had said something truly unexpected. ‘ _She_ doesn’t want to leave, my lord.’

De Rainault gritted his teeth at the memory. He looked at Marion again. The innocent, somewhat dreamy expression on her face. Her sentiments were a lot more difficult to figure out than Gisburne’s. What was going on in her head? What was she planning? The Sheriff felt uncomfortable. Like he was not in control of the situation. He hated that!

Boiling, he noticed how she casually put her hand on Gisburne’s thigh and whispered something in his ear.

‘May we retire, my lord?’ Gisburne requested.

It was not even nine ‘o clock.

‘Another stroll in the moonlight?’ de Rainault hissed, with as much revulsion as he could muster. 

Gisburne ignored the remark. ‘My wife is tired,’ he simply answered.

The Sheriff couldn’t stand it anymore. He nodded, and watched as they left the Hall together.

_What’s she up to_ , he asked himself again. _What, in God’s name?!_


	18. Chapter 18

Marion yawned. She felt blissfully relaxed, just on the threshold of waking up. She blinked lazily. It was still dark, but dawn was fast approaching and she could just make out the silhouettes of her friends, peacefully asleep around her. She listened to the sounds of the morning. Birds were singing in the trees, and the summer breeze rustled gently through the leaves. This was her favourite time of day, when everything was quiet, and only the greenwood whispered to her. She breathed in deeply, taking in the forest’s wild, earthy smell. Behind her, she could feel the reassuring presence of Robert. He moved in his sleep and the goat skins they used as a blanket, uncovered her shoulder. Why was he so far away? She nestled herself against him. The familiar warmth of his body soothed her. And suddenly, an overwhelming sense of relief washed over her. She tried to find the reason why she was so happy, but she was still half asleep and her mind wouldn’t cooperate. All she knew was that she loved him so much, it took her breath away. She had waited so long to accept him. Why? All that time wasted... She reached for his arm and pulled it close. His breathing got lighter. She took his hand in hers and moved it towards her bosom. He stirred, and his fingers closed themselves around her left breast. He caressed it gently, making circles on the skin with his thumb. Her nipple rose up under his touch. She closed her eyes, her lips parted in a blissful sigh. She pushed herself more deliberately into his lap now, and shivered when she felt how hard he was. God, how she wanted him inside of her! To experience their love on every level. Her eyes still closed, she turned towards him. He was awake now, and had pushed himself up on one arm. The other lay firmly between her shoulder blades, moving upward towards the base of her neck. She brushed her cheek against his, breathing in the scent of his skin and hair. The powerful, somewhat sweet smell of horses...

_Horses..._

Marion opened her eyes, and the woodland around her disappeared. The moss she was lying on turned into a mattress, the goatskins became a bearskin, and the sound of the birds didn’t come from the trees, but from outside the window. 

And the man who was holding her in his arms, wasn’t Robert.

They looked at each other, their mouths so close a kiss seemed inevitable. His eyes were grey in the murky light that was so typical of those last moments of night, right before dawn. She didn’t pull back. The dream was still too strong. The feel of it. And for a moment, it was like she saw everything crystal clear. The life behind those eyes. The soul that was bound to hers. And would be, forever.

Time froze, as he slowly moved towards her.

And then the door came crashing open, with an explosion of clanking metal, shouts and yells. 

‘Much!’ Marion screamed, and she pulled the covers up to her chin.

The boy was struggling between two guards, who were dragging him in by the collar.

For a split second, Guy was caught off balance. But then the feeling disappeared from his eyes, like a door was slammed shut, and the usual chill returned. Furious at being discovered in such a vulnerable position, he jumped out of bed and grabbed his sword. In two strides he stood before Much and put the tip on the boy’s throat. But he addressed his soldiers first. ‘Don’t you fools know how to knock!’

‘Forgive us, my Lord,’ said the older of the two. He was holding a torch. ‘But we found this one lurking around your door. Pretending to be one of the cleaners, he was.’

Guy noticed the other guard glancing at Marion. ‘Avert your eyes, or I’ll have them gauged out!’

The soldiers quickly cast their gaze to the floor.

Guy turned his attention to Much. ‘What are you doing here, boy?’

Distraught, Much looked from Marion, to Gisburne’s sword on his throat, to Gisburne himself, who was standing before him in nothing but a pair of woollen breeches that clearly showed his waning arousal. He didn’t know what to do. So he told the truth.

‘I’ve a letter for Marion,’ he stammered. ‘From Robert!’

‘Robert?’ Marion came out of bed and put a cloak around her shoulders.

‘Leave us,’ Guy ordered the guards.

‘My Lord?’

‘Go stand outside!’ he yelled.

With a nod, they turned and left the room.

Guy moved his sword higher up Much’s throat, under his chin. ‘Now, where’s this letter you speak of?’

Trembling, the boy produced the parchment from his tunic.

Guy held out his hand. ‘Give it to me!’

‘You’re scaring him!’ Marion scolded. She brushed past him and put her hands on Much’s shoulders. ‘It’s all right, Much. He won’t harm you.’

‘Won’t I?’ Guy snorted.

‘No, you _won’t!_ ’ she answered, in a tone that could not be mistaken. ‘Where are the others?’ she asked Much.

‘In Wickham, with Edward. Oh Marion, we’ve all been so worried about you!’

‘Come,’ she said, smiling gently. ‘Give me the letter.’

‘Marion,’ Guy interrupted, in a warning voice. ‘I don’t want you reading that!’

She took the letter out of Much’s hand. 

‘Marion, I forbid you to open that!’

Much looked on in amazement as Marion broke the seal and walked to the window to catch the light.

‘Marion, don’t read that, I forbid it!’

Marion’s eyes flew over the words. She frowned, her free hand unconsciously reaching for her throat in a protective gesture. When she was finished, she gazed outside. A bleak dawn enveloped the walls of Nottingham Castle in an ever paler grey. 

‘This is dated more than a week ago,’ she whispered.

‘It was hard getting you alone,’ Much answered, glancing at Gisburne. 

Marion tried to decide what to do. The letter, and especially the moment it had been delivered, had shook her to the core. It was a violent wake-up call. A reminder that Robert was _out there_. Not some phantom from a past too painfully happy to remember, but a reality, and a close one too. Panic overtook her. Her mind got stuck, like a wheel in the mud. The only thing she knew for sure was that he had to stay away. The Sheriff couldn’t be trusted. He was up to something. She could see it in the way he looked at her. If Robert entered Nottingham Castle, he would not leave it alive. But she couldn’t tell him that. It would only make him more determined.

‘Go back,’ she told Much. ‘And tell Robert not to come here.’ 

‘Why not?’

‘I mean it, Much! He must stay away from here!’

‘Oh, Marion,’ Much tried. ‘Why don’t you just come back? Come with me, to Wickham. It’ll be like before. Robert’s going to meet us there, when his father lets him go. We expect him any day now. We’re all there, just waiting for you!’

‘I can’t.’

‘Why?’

‘I just can’t.’

‘But _why_?’

‘Didn’t you hear her, you half-wit?’ Guy fumed. ‘Get out and don’t come back.’ He pushed Much towards the door at swordpoint.

The boy gave Marion a last, pleading look.

‘ _Get out before I have you thrown in the dungeons!_ ’

Suddenly, Much straightened his shoulders and looked Gisburne square in the eye: ‘You can’t! I’m not an outlaw anymore. I’m a free man!’

‘I can do whatever I want,’ Guy scoffed. ‘And you won’t be free for long, if you continue skulking around the castle like a thief in the night. Next time I catch you, I’ll put you in the pillory!’ And with a swift movement, he ran the tip of his sword across Much’s cheek, leaving a shallow, but nasty cut.

That was enough to falter Much’s insolence. He turned and ran off as fast as he could.


	19. Chapter 19

‘I heard lady Gisburne got a letter from her old beau this morning,’ the Sheriff grinned.

Guy felt his heart sink. Couldn’t his men keep _anything_ secret?

‘Well,’ de Rainault continued. ‘What was in it?’

‘I don’t know, my lord.’

‘What do you mean, you don’t know?’

Guy hesitated a moment, before admitting that Marion wouldn’t let him read it.

‘Good God, man! Can’t you even _try_ to pretend you’re able to control her? This is getting absurd!’ 

‘She just need some time...’

The Sheriff snorted, cutting him short. ‘Well, it doesn’t really matter. It’s not that difficult to figure out the contents, now is it?’

Guy gave him a blank look.

De Rainault raised his eyebrows. ‘Shall I venture a wild guess and say this means Huntingdon is soon to be heading our way?’ 

‘I suppose so, my lord.’

‘Look, Gisburne,’ De Rainault continued. ‘Huntingdon won’t be foolish enough to come to the castle. But when he challenges you, make sure you arrange to meet him somewhere... _suitable_. Rhiannon’s Wheel would be perfect. Yes, I have good memories of that place... You must meet him there!’

‘But why, my lord?’

_Because it’s remote, with a minimal risk of witnesses, and perfect for my soldiers to lie in ambush. Meaning that if you fail, Gisburne, which you’ll probably do, I can have Huntingdon killed anyway. His father will think he perished in the duel, and the matter will be closed. After all, a sword-blow doesn’t have an autograph on it..._

But he didn’t tell any of this to his deputy, of course. The fool would just blab it all to Marion! So he answered: ‘Because moments of glory ask for a glorious setting, Gisburne.’

Guy frowned as the Sheriff gave him a pat on the back.


	20. Chapter 20

‘Ouch!’ Much wailed. ‘It stings!’

‘You’re lucky to be alive.’ Tuck sighed, while he cleaned the wound. ‘What an idea to just walk up to their chamber!’

‘I didn’t know what else to do! When they come out, they’re always together. I waited for days and days! So I figured I’d try to catch them sleeping. At night there are less people around the castle. Then I could wake Marion up and give her the letter, without Gisburne noticing. But they weren’t sleeping...’

‘What _did_ you catch them doing?’ Robert asked. He had arrived in Wickham just before Much did. But the reunion with his friends hadn’t been a cheerful one. They were shocked to see how down-cast and gloomy their leader had become. Robert couldn’t help it. He was exhausted. He’d left Huntingdon straight after the ransom had been paid, and the parting with his father had been difficult, to say the least. Their conversation had haunted him all the way over here, just like his worries for Marion had. He’d made the entire journey almost without rest, forcing his horse to gallop until it simply couldn’t anymore. 

‘Robert...’ Little John began.

‘No! I want to know. What were they doing?’

Much looked at his feet.

‘Much?’

The boy shrugged, his face pink with embarrassment.

‘ _Much!_ ’

‘They were in each other’s arms, all right?’

Robert stood up with a violent movement, and disappeared between the trees.

‘Great, Much,’ Will whispered. ‘Just great.’

‘He asked!’ Much defended himself.

John shook his head. ‘What’s the matter with her? The other day that man from sir Richard’s household told us she didn’t want to leave, and now _this_!’

‘Witchcraft!’ Will suggested.

But Tuck didn’t agree. ‘Gisburne’s the last one to use enchantments. They make him angry.’

‘Why?’ Much wanted to know.

‘He’s scared by what he doesn’t understand.’

‘The poor bastard must be terrified all the time, then,’ Will grinned.

‘This is not the time for jokes,’ Nasir mentioned.

‘Right you are, Nas,’ John nodded.

‘Well, maybe it’s not him, then,’ Will continued. ‘But what about the Sheriff? He’ll use anything if it’s to his advantage.’

‘Maybe,’ Tuck sighed. ‘But I believe Marion is suffering a great deal. She’s losing herself in the process. And the longer she stays in the castle, the worse it’ll get!’

 

*

 

Robert stormed through the woods. Swearing, he broke off twigs and kicked stones in his path. He was furious. But most of all, he was scared. Simply terrified. Something was wrong. He could feel it. Marion was capable and extremely strong-willed. She rarely did anything she didn’t want to, unless there was a good reason for it. 

So what was the reason for her staying in Nottingham? It was not like her to be so passive, just waiting for him to come and rescue her. He had half expected her to be in Wickham already. Had Gisburne threatened her? Had he threatened the people of Wickham or any of the other villages? Robert shook his head. Threats to her own address wouldn’t scare Marion. And Gisburne couldn’t do any major damage in the villages without the Sheriff’s permission. 

So what was it then?

_Maybe she doesn’t want to leave_ , a small voice in Robert’s head spoke. _Maybe she’s doing exactly what she wants to._

He scoffed. The idea Marion would’ve fallen for Gisburne was preposterous! And yet... Why else would she brush her father off, brush Much off, brush _him_ off? His friends had informed him of the Nottingham gossip, including the things Marion had allegedly said when sir Richard had come to take her to Leaford. And according to Much, she came out of Mass holding Gisburne’s arm, sat by him at dinner, walked the gardens with him. And she slept in his arms...

Robert’s head was swimming with fatigue. He stopped and rested his hands on his knees for a moment. But when he looked up again, his blood froze in his veins. 

In the clearing, behind the branches and bare shrubbery in front of him, he could see Gisburne and Marion, lying together! It was the vision again... That awful vision that had haunted him so terribly, when he was trapped in Huntingdon Castle. And this time, it was even worse. 

Because this time, Gisburne wasn’t forcing Marion. She was sitting on top of him out of her own accord. Her head was tilted back with pleasure, and she sighed sensually as she slowly and deliberately grinded her hips. He was looking up at her with his eyes half-closed, firmly holding on to her butt cheeks. Robert stood paralysed, as he watched how Marion moved towards his enemy, willingly offering him her bosom. He slid his hands over her sides, leaving goose bumps on her pale skin. With a grunt, he caught one of her nipples in his mouth. She moaned loudly, and allowed him to suckle her for a while. Then she pushed him away and moved backwards again, her chest just out of his reach. They smiled mischievously at each other. Without faltering her gaze, Marion picked up the pace. Gisburne moaned and panted on the rhythm she imposed, barely able to refrain himself from moving towards her again. But she put her hands on his chest and kept him down. As her movements grew faster, his sighs got more and more desperate. Finally, she gave in and bent over him again. He wrapped his arms tightly around her. Cheek to cheek, they laboured towards the climax. And then she screamed with joy as her body shook in quick, short jerks. 

They stayed still for a while, entangled in each other’s arms. Gisburne had to catch his breath, but Marion seemed somehow supernaturally above all that. When she raised her head, she was calm and in complete control. She brought her face to his, curled her tongue and licked him across the lips in a slow, luxurious movement, like a cat lapping up cream. The look she gave him was one of pure lust. Then her eyes wandered over his shoulder, and fell on Robert standing there. 

Robert took a step back. The image was that vivid. 

Gisburne pushed himself up on his elbows and turned his head to see what Marion was looking at. Now they were both staring at Robert, equally unmoved. And then, as slowly as she had just licked Gisburne’s lips, a smile appeared on Marion’s face. It got wider and she started to giggle, her shoulders jerking upwards. She put her arms casually around Gisburne and let her head fall against his, in a gesture of complete trust and camaraderie. Leaning on each other, they looked at Robert and laughed. Shamelessly and ever louder.

Robert couldn’t take it anymore. It was just a mirage, a figment of his own warped imagination. But when he turned and ran from the spot, their mocking laughter seemed to follow him all the way back to Wickham.

 

*

 

‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost!’ Little John said, as he burst into Edward’s hut.

Robert ignored him. ‘Will!’ he ordered. ‘Pick up your sword and spar with me. You must teach me all the ways to kill a man, in the most painful manner possible!’

Will grinned. ‘That can be arranged...’

‘If Marion doesn’t want me to come to Nottingham, I’ll have Gisburne come out to meet me instead.’

‘How are you going to manage that?’ John informed.

‘When the time comes, I’ll have Much take another message to the castle.’

Much gawked at him. ‘But Gisburne said he’d have me put in the pillory if he saw me there again!’

‘Not a message to Marion,’ Robert explained. ‘This will be a note for _Gisburne_ himself... He won’t harm you when he reads what’s in it.’

Robert was sure the knight was as eager for the duel as he was. God, how he wanted to kill him! His mouth got dry just thinking about it. He yearned for his brother’s death almost as much as seeing Marion again. It was the only way forward. The only logical next step.

But he had to be careful. The mishap with the letter to Marion proved it. He had meant every word he’d said, but the way he had said it... That was the reaction of a boy, not a man! No, he mustn’t let his rage get the better of him again. This time he couldn’t afford any mistakes. This time, he would be prepared...


	21. Chapter 21

As the days passed, Marion got more and more anxious. She had warned Robert to stay away, but now it looked like he was heeding her words, she felt strangely disappointed. She sighed and rubbed her temples. She’d had a terrible headache all day. Guy was out in the villages, and she hated being alone in Nottingham Castle. On occasions such as this she mostly stayed in her room, so as not to be around the Sheriff too much. She didn’t care about his stupid remarks, but his punishments for the prisoners were always much harsher when she was around. If it’d been summertime, she could’ve kept busy tending to her bees. But it was December now, and save from the occasional walk in the gardens, there was no reason for her to go outside. She wasn’t the type to do embroidering or anything like that, so she had asked Guy to fetch her some books. But today, all the phrases seemed to turn into Robert’s handwriting...

His letter had unsettled her. The whole thing had been so uncharacteristic of him. Bitter and full of blood-thirst. That wasn’t like the man she knew and loved. And he hadn’t mentioned anything about missing her, or how he felt about her, either. Come to think of it, had he called her _dear_ or _dearest_ Marion? She couldn’t be sure. Guy had been so relentless in his demands to read the message, she’d had no choice but to burn it in the hearth.

_Dear Marion,_ she thought. _Yes, it was just “dear”..._

With a brusque movement, she got up and started pacing around the room. Her head throbbed on the rhythm of her footsteps. She stopped and her eyes fell on the quill that was lying on the desk. Suddenly, she felt an overwhelming urge to grab it and write Robert a reply. But what would she write?

_I should really just go to him,_ she thought. _Leave this place and join him in Wickham. Make this nightmare come to an end!_

She realised she could actually do so if she wanted to. She was convinced Guy wouldn’t stop her. Well, he couldn’t, even if he tried. And anyway, he wasn’t here now. So... 

For a moment, Marion was actually considering leaving. For the first time since that fateful night. But then she thought of Robert’s eyes. His smile. So bright and pure. And a panic overtook her again.

_Dear Marion..._ Like he was writing to a sister, or an aunt.

_He doesn’t love me anymore. He’s disgusted with me...!_

She looked out of the window. Wet snow whirled down. She hugged herself. Where was Guy? It was late in the afternoon and he still wasn’t back. She wanted him here, with her. Only in his presence could she truly feel at ease. She knew it would be wiser to keep a little more distance from him, though. She had noticed the way he looked at her sometimes, when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. But she couldn’t help it. She found herself turning to him again and again. That morning when Much had appeared... She shook her head. She didn’t know what it meant. And she didn’t want to think about it either. The only thing she knew, was that she wanted Guy here. Now!

She clenched her fists in frustration. And pain. By now her head felt like it was going to explode.

_God, what’s keeping him so long?!_ she thought.

 

*

 

Guy sighed with relief when he saw the towers of Nottingham Castle rise up in front of him. He’d had a long, hard day patrolling the woods and roads around Elsdon. A band of cutthroats was making the area unsafe, and he’d decided to put an end to it. But the robbers had eluded him all day, and his soldiers had gotten more infuriatingly sluggish by the hour. He was exhausted from spurring them on and shouting commands at them. To make matters worse, the non-stop drizzle had changed into a fine, wet snow in the afternoon, turning everything into a mud bath. His horse’s coat was filthy, as was his gear, and he himself was cold and wet to the bone. 

He stretched his shoulders, a painful expression on his face. The last couple of nights, he had been banished to the chair again. His punishment for cutting up that half-wit. A totally exaggerated sentence for a mere scratch, of course. If anything, Marion should’ve been glad he hadn’t killed the boy! But he’d heard women were often unreasonable during their pregnancy. Apparently, they were all over the place, making the wildest demands and strangest requests. Well, if that was the price he had to pay...

He trotted through the city gates, and entered the maze of narrow streets. Fury could smell his stable, and so could he. The guards stepped aside when he reached the first castle gate. He ordered them to close it behind him and his men. Then he crossed the last stretch to the inner gate and reached the courtyard.

He dismounted and handed Fury over to the stable hands. ‘Wash him down with lukewarm water,’ he instructed them. ‘He’s worked hard today.’

He took off his helmet and ran his hand through his hair, completely exhausted. All he wanted now was to get out of these wet clothes, eat, and sleep. But when he turned around, the hardships of the day evaporated as if by magic...

Marion was standing in the doorway of the Great Hall. And she was waving at him with such a big smile on her face, he couldn’t help but smile back.

‘Guy!’ she yelled, as she came running towards him. Before he knew what was happening, she had flung her arms around his neck, hugging him close. 

‘Careful, I’m all wet,’ he whispered.

But she didn’t seem bothered by that. She pressed her cheek against his, and sighed: ‘Oh, I have such great news! You won’t believe it!’

She loosened her grip and looked at him. Snowflakes dappled her hair like little lace jewels. One got caught on her eye-lashes, moving with them as she blinked. Carefully, he plucked it off. ‘What is it, then?’ he smiled.

‘I’m not pregnant!’ she exclaimed. ‘I just found out! I should’ve known, I’ve been headachy all day. Oh God, I’m so relieved. Aren’t you relieved, Guy?’ She hugged him again, as tightly as she could. 

Guy didn’t know what he was feeling, but it certainly wasn’t relief...

 

*

 

He figured she would leave now. Of course she would. There was nothing keeping her here anymore. 

But she didn’t. 

Still she didn’t.

That night, they slept in the same bed again. And the night after. And the one after that.

Guy could only conclude that what he had believed to be so impossible in the beginning, was now actually true: Marion didn’t stay with him because she had to, but because she _wanted_ to. And his initial disappointment about her not being pregnant changed into something else. A feeling so big and terrifying, he didn’t dare to name it. The situation affected him to the extent he could hardly eat or sleep anymore. 

Marion never spoke of how she felt. And neither did he, of course. But his hope grew. And so did his desire. The longing came to a point where it was almost unbearable.

And yet, if things were how he thought they were ¬- how he _hoped_ they were - why had she been so relieved about not being with child?

_Marion likes to be in control_ , he reasoned. _She wants to make her own decisions, instead of being forced into something by the circumstances. You can see it in the way she rides a horse. With her legs on either side, like a man._

He found he admired her for it, even if it was a very unladylike quality.

And then there was still the question of Huntingdon, of course. Guy realised that as long as he was alive, Marion would never truly be able to commit to their marriage. For as strong as she might be, she was also highly sensitive. He had seen how perturbed she had been by the letter that coward had sent. 

Guy shook his head disdainfully. Huntingdon was mad. A letter! While his woman slept in the bed of another man! If it had been the other way around, he would’ve raised nothing less than an army to get her back. But Robin Hood didn’t seem to be in a hurry. God, how he wished that fool would just do something. His hands itched to finish him off. Huntingdon’s existence hovered like a sword of Damocles over his union with Marion.

_She needs closure_ , he thought. _Her route to the forest has to be cut off, once and for all._

 

*

 

So when the half-wit approached him in the marketplace the next morning, it was like Guy’s prayers had been answered.

He grinned when he read the note.

 

_Gisburne,_

_Come to Rhiannon’s Wheel, at dawn on New Year’s day.  
Death awaits you there._

_Robert of Huntingdon_

 

New Year’s day, still more than a week from now. Apparently, Huntingdon needed time to prepare. Ha! He could prepare all he wanted to. It would end with his corpse feeding the crows. 

‘Tell him I’ll be there,’ he told Much, smiling coldly. 

He watched as Much disappeared into the crowd. It pleased him to see his sword had left a mark on the boy’s face. He crumpled the note into a ball and was about to throw it in one of the fire pits on the square, when a thought crossed his mind. It might be a good idea to hold on to this message for a while. He remembered how livid Marion had been, simply because he had cut Much across the cheek. He could only imagine how she would react on New Year’s day, when she learned he had killed her lover! It would be good to have proof then, that it was Huntingdon who had challenged him to a duel and not the other way around. Marion could hardly blame him for defending himself, now could she? 

Guy opened the note again and brushed the crinkles out. He smiled. This little shard of parchment would prove to Marion – and the world – that he had killed Huntingdon fair and square, and perfectly within the boundaries of the law, during a duel. He folded the note carefully, and put it safely away in a secret pocket in the lining of his cloak. Marion couldn’t get wind of the duel before it was over and done with. And the same thing applied to the Sheriff, too. Guy knew his employer well enough to know he was up to something. He didn’t want de Rainault meddling with things. This was a matter between him and Huntingdon. Funny though, that Huntingdon should have chosen the exact same spot the Sheriff had already suggested. Apparently, Robin Hood wasn’t insensitive to a little drama either...

_When he is gone, Marion will give herself to me,_ he thought to himself. _She’ll mourn him at first, of course. But after a while, she’ll forget about him. I’ll_ make _her forget. And then she’ll finally be mine. Completely._


	22. Chapter 22

He was so close...

But then everything fell apart, just like it always did. 

And as usual, he had no one to blame for it but himself. 

Christmastime had started. It was one of the highlights of castle life, with feasts lasting well over twelve days. Everywhere in England the halls were decorated, guests were invited, minstrels and travelling shows came to entertain, and the food was glorious.

But Nottingham Castle was run by a dreary man, and thus the festivities were pretty dreary as well. Still, some effort was made. The Sheriff had his best barrel of wine cracked open for the occasion. And the guests got a pretty decent vintage too. In Nottingham, Christmastime was not so much a feast of eating, but very much of drinking.

On the night of December 30th, Guy was in an exuberant mood. He had finally managed to catch the gang of Elsdon robbers. And it had been a magnificent fight. He had killed two of the thugs single-handedly. Two others had been taken out by the crossbows of his men, and the rest were in the dungeons, ready to be hanged in the new year.

The Sheriff was semi-pleased with him, which was the best anyone could expect, and Guy was extremely pleased with himself.

He raised his glass again and again, boasting of his success to whoever would hear it. He had invited his captains to sit close to him during dinner, and he was laughing and joking with them, going over every detail of the fight. It was highly exceptional for him to socialise with his subordinates, but tonight he felt curiously at ease with everything. There was a big fire roaring in the middle of the Hall, a promising smell of roast boar coming from the kitchens, and, most importantly, Marion was sitting by his side. He glanced at her and a warm feeling spread through his chest. She was wearing the cloak he had given her for Christmas. It was made out of green brocade, with red fox fur trimmings. The tailor’d had to order the fabric in from London especially, and it had cost a fortune. But Guy thought it was worth every penny. It matched Marion’s hair and eyes perfectly, as he’d known it would. She looked nothing less than a queen in that cloak. Even the Sheriff was eyeing it jealously. Guy smiled. Marion was by far the most beautiful woman here, and she was _his_. The fact her past was a little shady didn’t bother him anymore. If anything, it made her even more interesting. Everyone knew who she was. She was... how did you call it? Infamous? Notorious? No, illustrious! That was it... the illustrious Lady Marion of Gisburne. He nodded. That sounded good.

He nudged her with his shoulder and then winked at her, smiling warmly.

She reacted by rolling her eyes, in that typical way of hers. It made him laugh.

‘Maybe you should go a little easy on the wine,’ she advised him, with a wary look at his goblet. That was just getting an ample refill from a servant that seemed quite happy with the contents of the pitcher as well.

‘I can hold my drink,’ Guy assured her, and he spilled half of the wine when he picked up the goblet.

The night progressed, the boar was devoured, and the wine kept flowing in abundance. Tall tales flew across the table. And the later it got, the taller they seemed to become. With a sigh, Marion pushed her chair back and announced she was going to bed.

‘After you, my sweetheart,’ Guy smiled, and he stumbled up from his seat. 

He took a misstep as they walked up the stairs and Marion had to take him by the arm. He noticed how nice her hair smelled. He was just about to say something about it, when they reached the room. She let go of him to open the door, and he forgot what he wanted to say all together. 

He slouched in the chair, while Marion disappeared behind the screen to change her clothes. He closed his eyes for a moment. The wine had left an agreeable buzzing sensation in his head, and his muscles tingled with relaxation after the intense strain during the fight. God, what a fight! If only Marion could have been there to witness it... He opened his eyes again, just as she reappeared from behind the screen. She had her back to the fire, and he could clearly see the outline of her body through the thin fabric of her nightgown. Immediately, he was struck by an overwhelming desire for her. For weeks he had slept beside her without so much as touching her. At least not out of his own accord. He was too afraid he might spook her, if he went forward too fast. But she shivered, and he saw her nipples go hard, and in an instant all prior reservations were thrown overboard. He had to have her. He couldn’t wait a moment longer. Basically, he was so drunk he just did what he felt.

He stood up and blocked her way.

‘Step aside, Guy,’ she motioned impatiently. ‘I want to get in bed. I’m cold.’

‘Don’t worry, _chérie_. I’ll soon warm you up again.’ He bent towards her. 

‘What on earth are you doing?’ she started, pushing him away.

‘I’m kissing you,’ he shrugged, as if it was obvious.

She sighed. ‘Go to bed, Guy. You’re insanely drunk.’

He didn’t move.

She lifted her chin, angry now. ‘Fine! Then you may sleep in the chair again, tonight!’

She tried to brush past him, but he took her by the wrists and pulled her close. ‘After a fight like today, I need a woman,’ he whispered shamelessly.

‘God...’ she scoffed. ‘How _dare_ you?’ She tore herself loose, and turned her back to him.

‘Come on Marion...’ he said, pleading now. ‘What did you expect? It had to come to this sooner or later. Or did you think we would continue living like brother and sister forever? I’m not made of steel, you know!’

She gave him a look that _was_ made of steel. ‘Then use your hand to relieve yourself, instead of harassing me!’ She smiled scornfully when she saw the expression on his face. ‘Oh, don’t look so indignant. You forget I sleep beside you. Or did you think I couldn’t hear you, tugging away in the dead of night when you thought me fast asleep?’

All the colour left his face, only for it to come rushing back in a violent pink. But the drink had made him insolent, and he quickly overcame his initial embarrassment. ‘What choice do I have, with a wife that won’t perform her duties,’ he scolded.

Marion was perplexed. ‘My _duties_? I owe you nothing!’

He gave her a proud look. ‘You’re my wife, your body is mine. I could’ve taken you every single night, if I wanted to.’

‘Is that so?’ she said, crossing her arms. ‘Well, then why didn’t you? Or did you have to be drunk enough to muster up the courage?’

‘Of course not!’

‘Then why wait until now?’ 

‘Because...’ He blinked as he tried to form a clear thought through the mist of his inebriation. 

And then it all just came out. He could feel it happening. A part of him tried to stop it. Desperately. But that part had been drowned hours ago, in gallons of red wine from a little town somewhere near Bordeaux. He inhaled deeply, daunted by the gravity of what he was about to tell her. Unwillingly, but too far gone to stay himself, he spoke: ‘I... I have feelings for you, Marion. I...’

‘Oh no.’ She closed her eyes, as if expecting a blow. ‘Don’t say it. _Don’t_!’

But he did. And very loudly too. 

‘I love you!’

Marion sighed, raising her hands in a helpless gesture. ‘Oh Guy, you don’t know what love _is_!’

‘I do! I swear to you that I do! Maybe not before, but now I feel it all the time. With every gesture you make, every look you give me, every single word that comes out of your mouth.’ 

His eyes had that soft, dreamy expression again. Something that was enhanced even more by the fact he was inhumanly drunk. ‘You’re like no other woman I have ever met,’ he slurred. ‘Beauty and power mixed together, like an exquisite war horse. I don’t care anymore that you shared the bed with Huntingdon, or even with that serf Loxley. I am prepared to forgive you for all that. I love you! And I know that deep down, you feel the same way.’

Marion shook her head. ‘You’re out of your mind! How could I love you? A man that is the very embodiment of everything I stand against. All those innocent people you tormented, maimed, murdered... The very same people I’ve spent years of my life trying to defend! My friends!’

‘I realise that,’ he said, with an earnest nod. ‘But I want to change. I’m trying. I haven’t chopped off a single hand since we’ve been together. Can’t you see, you bring out the best in me!’

She scoffed. ‘Do you really think I’m stupid enough to believe you actually care about the people of Nottingham?’

‘I care about _you_! I would do all you ask of me. You want me to quit working for the Sheriff? Fine. Just tell me where you want to live, and we’ll pack up and leave this place.’ He took her by the arms and shook her, softly. ‘Don’t you understand? I can give you anything, buy you anything! The best food, gowns, jewels, horses, as much servants as you like. You’d live like a princess. Nay, a queen!’ He made a wide, wild gesture.

‘Guy, what you describe isn’t love,’ Marion explained, exasperated. ‘It’s pure selfishness. It only shows you’ll stop at nothing to get what you want, just like you always do!’

He shook his head. ‘This time it’s different.’ He leaned closer to her, and whispered: ‘Why don’t we stop this charade, Marion, and admit to ourselves what’s really happening. Let’s start living like man and wife, in the true meaning of the word. Let’s give this a chance!’

She stepped backwards, out of his embrace, an ice-cold expression on her face. ‘I could never be your wife in the true meaning of the word.’

It started dawning on him that she meant what she said. And suddenly, a wild anger overtook him. ‘Oh no?’ he scoffed. ‘But for all the other stuff I’m good enough, aren’t I? Guy may I sleep in your bed, Guy please stay up and listen to my ramblings all night, Guy order me a bath, Guy ride after my lover like a fool, Guy give me money to hand out to the poor, Guy this and Guy that!’

‘I...’ Marion was at a loss for words.

‘If I am really such an awful person, then why haven’t you left me yet?’ he continued. ‘Why do you seem so intent on staying here, with me, your “great enemy”? Your father comes over and you don’t want to speak to him, your lover sends you letters and you send no reply, that half-wit stood _right there_ , and you had him removed!’

Now it was Marion’s turn to glow red. ‘I... I’m just _confused_!’

‘ _You’re_ confused?’ he replied, eyebrows raised.

She looked away. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. It came out very sweetly, almost fragile, and Guy felt a pang of desire for her again. It was an emotion that went much further than pure physical lust. He wanted to be inside of her, posses her completely, lose himself in her warmth and care. Feel what he had felt on their wedding night. 

‘Forgive me for shouting,’ he muttered. ‘But I just want you to see... to admit...’ He sighed. ‘Marion, you’re not being truthful to yourself. You _must_ have feelings for me too!’

‘I don’t know why you would think such a thing,’ she said stubbornly.

‘We... we made _love_ that night.’

She cringed when he referred to the one thing she wanted to forget more than anything. ‘Made love?! You...’ She swallowed, shaking her head. ‘It was _rape_!’

‘You wanted it,’ he yelled, desperately. ‘You _liked_ it!’

‘It was the most horrible experience of my life!’

The pain was plainly visible on his face. ‘Liar! We shared something that night. You must’ve felt it too! You must have!’

‘I felt nothing! Only shame and humiliation.’

‘You... you _climaxed_!’

She slapped him so hard the sound echoed through the room. A burning heat spread across his cheek. It registered even through the general numbness of his drunken state.

Marion stood shaking on her feet. ‘For your information, I was thinking of Robert the whole time,’ she hissed. But her voice trembled almost as much as she did herself.

Her words hurt him far worse than the blow to the face. When he started talking again, it was in a hoarse whisper. ‘How cruel you are...’

‘Cruel?’ Marion’s eyes flashed big at him, taken aback by an accusation she had never received before. Guy could see tears welling up in those eyes. But he did not desist.

‘Yes,’ he repeated. ‘Cruel. How you taunt me with your continuous presence. Always close, but never really there. Always by my side, but never truly attainable... I almost wish you would take up another crossbow and shoot me in the back, like you once did so effectively. Even that would be less painful than this... this _torture_!’

‘ _And I wish you would’ve just raped me like a brute. Then at least I would’ve had the solace of being able to hate you!_ ’ Marion screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks.

The room fell silent as they looked at each other, both panting with emotional hurt.

The moment seemed to go on forever.

‘Decide, woman,’ Guy finally said, his voice low. ‘Stay with me and be my wife completely, or go back to the forest and leave me in peace!’


	23. Chapter 23

Robert lay on the floor in Edward’s hut, listening to the sound of his friends’ snoring. It was still early, but he was already wide awake. This was the last day before he would face Gisburne, and he was nervous. Not because he feared the knight, or because of the blood ties they shared — the days where he worried about something as exalted as blood ties were long behind him! — but because of what lay in the balance of the fight at hand. If he failed, he would condemn Marion to a life with Gisburne.

_If she minds that so terribly_ , he thought bitterly.

He sighed, berating himself for thinking that way. But he just couldn’t come to terms with the fact she remained in Nottingham Castle, seemingly out of her own accord. He racked his brain again and again about the reason for her behaviour. It was an obsession. The wildest assumptions ran through his mind. He doubted everything they had shared together. He re-assessed every word she had uttered to him, every look she had given him, every little row and every moment of intimacy between them. The weather was downright icy lately, but he felt hot all the time. He spent sleepless nights clammy with fear she might be pregnant, and feverish days full of practise fights with Will, where he tried to chop and hack the images of Marion and Gisburne in various coupling positions out of his head. He had even contemplated the fact Gisburne might be a better lover than he was. As if that would be the key point to convince Marion to throw away all her principles and stay married to her mortal enemy! He shook his head at his own foolishness. But then he reminded himself she had spent Christmas in Nottingham, with her “husband”. That irked him. He found himself wondering about the small things. What had been on the menu? Had she received a present? Would she have _given_ one? The jealousy was like a fire, and he started sweating again.

_If only she were here_ , he thought. _If only I could talk to her!_

Normally, Marion was the one he discussed his deepest thoughts and worries with. But now she was the reason for those worries. Everything was wrong.

Robert got up and crept outside, careful not to wake his friends.

It was a misty morning, and the rest of Wickham was still asleep. He decided to walk to the forest and see if he could find Herne. He had done all the physical preparation for the duel he could think of. Now he was in desperate need of some spiritual guidance. 

When he got to the bridge that crossed Wickham’s little stream, he stopped for a moment and looked down. There was a thin layer of ice near the edges of the brook, but in the middle the water was still flowing freely.

He peered at the dark surface, and closed his eyes.

_Herne_ , he called silently. _Give my sword strength. Tell me which road to take, in order to prevail tomorrow._

He felt a cold wind sweep across his face. He opened his eyes, expecting to see Herne standing on the forest’s edge. But it was another figure that appeared out of the mist...

_Marion!_

She was standing on the road, on the other side of the bridge. Robert couldn’t believe his eyes. Was she a dream? A vision?

But then he noticed she was wearing Gisburne’s blue cloak. He would never imagine her in such an unusual outfit. It wasn’t a mirage. It was really her!

For a moment neither of them moved. They just kept looking at each other. And then Robert smiled.

Marion exhaled, and with a sob she came running towards him.

‘Robert!’ she sighed, as she threw herself in his arms. ‘Oh Robert. How I missed you!’

‘My love...’ Robert whispered, his throat thick with emotion.


	24. Chapter 24

When Guy woke up, his first sensation was a crippling headache. The second was the realization he was alone. With an almost superhuman effort he ignored his nausea, got up and stumbled to the door. The guards informed him Marion had left before first light.

He didn’t say a word. With a nod, he closed the door and slumped back onto the bed. He looked around, his vision swimming. The room felt bleak and empty without her. _He_ felt bleak and empty. She hadn’t even taken her beautiful new cloak with her. It lay on the ground like an old rag. She couldn’t have made it any more clear she wanted nothing from him. Absolutely nothing at all...

Another surge of queasiness had him reach for the bucket. But the moment wasn’t there yet. He breathed in and out a couple of times. Usually, when he was in a state like this, the night before was one big blur. But this time he wasn’t so lucky. He remembered every word that was said between them. Every painful remark she had made.

A terrible coldness embraced Guy’s heart. Something inside felt wrong. Torn. Like his ribs had been cracked open, and there was a big, black hole were his stomach used to be. A vortex of emptiness, that tried to pull him under. Suck him into oblivion. It was worse than his hangover. It was unbearable.

And he decided he wouldn’t. Bear it, that was.

It was really very simple when he thought about it. He couldn’t live without Marion. So he would go to the duel tomorrow, kill Huntingdon, and get her back. And then he would never let her go again. Last night she had told him she wished she would be able to hate him. Well, he would grant her that wish. He would make her stay. He didn’t care if he had to chain her to him like a dog. And this time they would live like man and wife from day one. None of that sentimental crap anymore. He had allowed his emotions to sneak in once, and look where that had gotten him! After everything he had been through in his life, he had finally let a woman get the better of him. No, this time it would be different. He would bed her, put a baby in her belly and be done with it. She could hate him all she wanted to then. It didn’t matter, he was used to being hated. All that mattered was that she would be by his side. Marion would be a true wife to him. She would lie with him at night and walk beside him by day. They would never be apart. That was how it was going to be. How it _had_ to be. He saw no other future than a future with her.

He clamped the bucket between his knees. There was no time to let the hangover run its course. He had stuff to do today, and he needed to be in shape for tomorrow. So he did what he always did on such occasions. He put his finger down his throat, until everything was out. Then washed up and got dressed, albeit a little slower than usual.

When he was ready to leave, he noticed he couldn’t find his blue cloak anywhere. Marion must have taken it with her instead of the brocade one. He picked the latter up from the floor. Her scent wafted towards him, and he could feel that emptiness pulling at him again. The blackness. He sighed and threw the cloak across the chair. Well, at least she wasn’t out in the snow without something to keep her warm...

 

*

 

Robert and Marion lay naked in each other’s arms, with nothing but an old goat skin underneath them. They had left Wickham without warning the others, and walked deep into the heart of Sherwood. To the place where they had first made love. The little pool was frozen now. But in the cave above it, the temperature was more than agreeable. The cave was small and cosy, and Robert had made a big fire near the entrance.

Not that they had needed it. Their desire for each other had kept them warm. Robert couldn’t believe how natural it had been. He had been afraid that with everything that had happened, Marion might recoil from physical intimacy. But it had been the other way around. Their long separation seemed to have inflamed her passion. She had kissed him with a ravenous appetite, as if she wanted to ingest a piece of him and make it her own. The joy of being together again was simply overwhelming. All his dark thoughts had melted away, like it was already springtime and the birds were singing in the budding trees. The orgasm had been simultaneous and of a power never experienced before. Afterwards, they had fallen asleep almost instantly. Exhausted from the emotions of the past few weeks. 

By the time they awoke again, it was already growing dark. Robert had rekindled the dwindling fire, and then they had made love a second time. Gentler, kinder, and even more intense, in a way. Her eyes had never left his, as he slowly moved inside her. The feel of her smooth thighs against his sides, her warm body beneath his, her little moans and sighs... It was like it used to be. And when it was over, they both had to brush the tears from their eyes.

Robert stared into the flames. Marion was lying with her back to him, facing the fire. They didn’t speak a word. In fact they had not said much to each other at all since their encounter in Wickham. He had been so surprised to see her, so overcome with emotions, that all he had wanted to do was hold her, touch her, make love to her...

He looked at Marion’s slender frame. The way her hair cascaded down in big, loose curls. It was such a familiar image. And yet it felt strange as well, to see her lying here next to him, after all this time. Suddenly, a strange uneasiness crept up on him. He wondered if Gisburne had seen her like this as well...

Marion felt him looking at her, and turned around. She cuddled up close to him and started caressing his chest, her fingers making small circles through the hair. It was a very intimate gesture, but all Robert could think about was her fingers doing the same thing to Gisburne’s chest.

_Gisburne’s hands on her breasts._

_Gisburne’s mouth on her mouth._

_Gisburne’s body underneath hers._

_And_ her _hand..._

Their moment of peace was over. All Robert’s worries came rushing back, with a vengeance.

‘Marion,’ he whispered. ‘Marion, I want to ask you something.’

She gave him a sleepy smile. ‘Oh?’

He hesitated for a moment. ‘What was it like? In the castle, I mean?’

He could feel her freeze up, and he knew she was wide awake now. She sighed. ‘Oh Robert, must we really talk about that?’

‘Please,’ he insisted. ‘I was worried sick when you were there. I have so much questions.’

She remained silent for a long time. ‘All right then,’ she whispered. ‘If you really want to know.’

Robert hesitated. ‘Did he... did he treat you very poorly?’

She shrugged. ‘He treated me all right, I guess. Better than I expected, anyway.’

Robert swallowed. ‘Good. That’s... good.’

They fell silent again.

‘But did he... was it... _often_?’

‘ _Robert_...’ Marion cringed.

‘Please, I need to know!’

She rolled on her back. ‘It only happened once,’ she replied, her eyes closed. ‘On the night we were wed.’

Robert clenched his teeth. Under the circumstances, this was the best possible scenario. But hearing her say it out loud made it all so real. He had to use all of his will-power to prevent himself from forming a mental picture again. ‘Poor darling,’ he whispered. ‘What you must have suffered. But don’t worry. I’ve been training with Will for weeks. That bastard will get what’s coming to him, and then some!’

Marion propped herself up on an elbow. ‘What good would that do, Robert?’

He gave her a confused look.

‘Fighting Guy will only cause more suffering. And what for? I’m here now, aren’t I?’

‘But, Marion, he _raped_ you!’

She shook her head. ‘It wasn’t really like that.’

‘What do you mean? Of course it was!’

She sighed and sat up, her hands around her knees. ‘It’s hard to explain...’

He waited, his uneasiness growing with every second, while she searched for the right words. 

When she spoke again, she looked away. ‘Guy didn’t want me any more than I wanted him.’

‘Pha!’ Robert scoffed. ‘I bet he was positively devastated!’

‘I’m telling you the truth,’ she whispered. 

Robert realised she was. He frowned as he let the information sink in. ‘So he looked down on you, is that it?’ he tried to make sense of it all. ‘Gisburne thought you beneath him. That’s why he didn’t touch you a second time.’

She made a gesture that could mean anything.

‘No?’ Robert tried to catch her gaze again. ‘Marion?’

‘It’s difficult to explain...’ she repeated. ‘You don’t know him like I do. You wouldn’t understand...’

Robert felt like his heart was going to beat straight out of his chest. What was she talking about? What did this all mean?!

When he opened his mouth to inquire further, Marion cut him short. ‘Look,’ she concluded. ‘What happened was awful, and painful, and confusing, and I would like to forget about it as soon as possible.’

‘But Marion, if that is the case, then why did you stay there for so long?’

As he spoke the words, Robert realised this was the one thing he wanted to know more than anything else. The one question that trumped all the others. Why had she slept in Gisburne’s bed, walked around the gardens with him, held his arm? Why on earth had she _stayed_ with him?!

But he didn’t get an answer.

‘Oh Robert,’ Marion sighed. ‘Let’s just stop talking about this. It’s upsetting me, and it’s clearly upsetting you too.’ She lay down in his arms again and gave him a tender kiss. ‘Whatever happened or didn’t happen, it’s over now. I don’t want to hear about it anymore. And I don’t want you seeking Guy out. Promise me you’ll leave him be. I can’t stand anymore violence and suffering. We are together again, and that’s all that matters.’

He looked into her eyes. Big and green and full of love. 

‘Yes,’ he whispered. ‘That’s all that matters.’

With a content smile, she rested her head on his chest. After a while, Robert could hear she had dozed off again. But he couldn’t sleep anymore. The things she had said kept going round in his head. “Guy”, she had called Gisburne, like he was on old friend.

_“You don’t know him like I do...”_

Robert raised his hand and wiped the sweat from his brow.

 

*

 

When Marion woke up from her slumber, dawn was already fast approaching. The fire had gone out and an icy mist had crept into the cave. Where was Robert? The spot next to her was cold. It seemed he had left a good while ago. Had he gone to fetch breakfast? Or to Wickham, to let the others know where they were? She frowned. It wasn’t like him to leave her for so long without telling her...

She shivered and realised how cold she was. She grabbed the first thing that came to hand. Guy’s cloak. When she pulled it over her shoulders, a familiar smell reached her. It was the usual hint of horses, but also, underneath, Guy’s own scent. Now she was no longer anywhere near him, she could make it out very clearly.

Without thinking about it, Marion brought a handful of blue fabric to her face and inhaled deeply. The smell of his skin. His hair. His sweat. A strange feeling crept in on her. A confusing mixture of comfort and shame. She shivered again, but this time it was not with the cold. This time it was with sadness that fate had brought her here, in this impossible situation. She pulled the cloak tighter around her. And then she felt it. A strange resistance under the fabric. There was something in the lining...

Marion inhaled sharply when she read Robert’s note.

_Come to Rhiannon’s Wheel, at dawn on New Year’s day._

That was today!


	25. Chapter 25

Fury ploughed through the deep snow, as Guy approached Rhiannon’s Wheel. The circle rose up out of the mist, its stones glinting with frost. Huntingdon was already there, waiting for him. The Hooded Man looked pale, and his posture was more rigid than usual. Nervous... 

‘I almost thought you weren’t coming,’ Robert said derisively.

‘You know me better than that,’ Guy replied.

‘No armour?’

‘As you see.’

‘Think you’ll be more agile in your chain-mail, do you?’

Guy gave him a look devoid of all emotion. ‘Have you come here to fight, or to gab?’ 

Robert pulled Albion from the sheath.

 

*

 

Guy had never fought so dispassionately, and he had never fought so well. He was like an automated thing. Some sort of contraption, built to steadily break down Huntingdon’s defences. Unwavering, relentless, unstoppable. He didn’t utter a word. Not even a curse. For all the hurtful things he had imagined he would say to Huntingdon when the time came, he didn’t speak one. He couldn’t see why he would. It was all just a waste of energy. A waste of time, in his quest to retrieve Marion. Huntingdon had transformed from a mortal enemy into a mere obstacle that needed to be cleared. This fight was a chore to Guy, nothing more. And he knew he was going to be the one to come out victorious. He was certain of it. There was simply no other option.

With each blow of his sword, he got closer to his goal. It was almost disappointing how easy this was. Huntingdon was too eager, too hasty, too careless with rage and jealousy. It was like fighting his old self, and rather cathartic at that. I must remember this, Guy thought, as he deflected a huge slash from Albion with his shield, almost casually.

He could see his opponent was getting tired. Fighting in the snow was a challenge for any man, and Huntingdon was sweating profusely. His attacks slowed down, and he had to take much more of a defensive stance. Chest heaving, he tried to get away and catch his breath.

But Guy granted him no repose. He increased the pressure further, driving Huntingdon back and forcing him to lift his sword again and again to avoid being run through. 

Huntingdon lost his balance for a moment, and Guy saw an opening. He aimed for the chest. The Hooded Man only barely escaped. But it did mean he had to take another step back, and he got blocked against one of the stones of the Wheel. 

Guy knew it was over. Huntingdon could never come back from such a disadvantageous position. With his back to the wall, the Hooded Man struggled to wield his sword. In the end, he had no other choice than to lift his shield higher up. Guy had been waiting for this. He immediately clamped it with his own, knocked it in Huntingdon’s face, and then threw both shields to the side.

Huntingdon was down on one knee now, blood streaming from his nose down to his chin. He was still holding Albion, but in an awkward angle that wouldn’t allow him to strike with enough speed or force. He looked up at Guy, and defeat shone in his eyes.

Guy smirked. The moment had finally come. He would deal Huntingdon the final blow. The fact didn’t resonate as much with him as it would have done a couple of days ago, but it still did something to him. He put both hands on the hilt of his sword and raised it high over his right shoulder.

‘No!!!’

The scream pierced the icy morning air. Guy froze. He would have recognised that voice anywhere.

He looked over his shoulder and saw his wife standing at the edge of the Wheel. She was as pale as the snow around her, her eyes fixated on the kneeling figure of Huntingdon. The expression on her face struck him like a bolt of lightning. And in that moment, everything became crystal clear. He knew Marion would _never_ look at him that way. Never. Not in a million years. She loved Huntingdon. She would always love him. Killing him would not make her forget. It would only crush her. 

And he realised he would never be able to hurt her that much... 

Guy’s sword lingered in the air.

A moment too long.

With a growl, Robert jumped on his feet and plunged Albion upwards. He aimed for the liver, like Will had taught him. A wounded liver would cause a death-struggle that lasted for hours.   
But Guy noticed the movement. His sword was too far away to block the strike now. So, in a reflex, he swivelled away.

Albion struck him right above his hip, piercing the chain-mail as well as the flesh beneath. Guy gasped from the violence of the blow. And in the blink of an eye, he was on his knees. 

Huntingdon pulled Albion out. Blood gushed down in the snow. Instinctively, Guy pressed his free hand on his injury. With the other, he was still stubbornly holding on to his sword. But Huntingdon disarmed him with a single movement. Guy’s strength flowed out of him at the same pace his blood did, and he collapsed onto the ground.

On his back, he lay in the snow. That was red now. And cold. So cold...

‘I’m sorry, Marion,’ he heard Huntingdon say. ‘But I just couldn’t stomach it. There was no other way this could end.’

The words sounded muffled. Some very quiet, and others extremely loud. 

His vision was getting blurry as well. The patch of sky above him was moving in and out of focus. He wished he could breathe. But it hurt so much...

Suddenly, an overwhelming fear overtook him. He wasn’t ready yet. He still had something to do, something to say!

‘Marion...’ he panted hoarsely. ‘ _Marion_...’

He felt a soft hand grab his, as she knelt beside him in the snow.

He looked into her eyes, afraid she wouldn’t understand, afraid there wouldn’t be enough time. ‘Marion,’ he breathed. ‘Marion, I _do_ know what love is.’

She smiled and brushed a lock of hair back from his brow.

‘I know, Guy,’ she whispered. ‘I know...’

Relieved, he closed his eyes.

Then, there was only darkness.


	26. Chapter 26

He was drifting. Floating underneath the surface of a murky river. The water was in turmoil, and all he could do was surrender to it. There were dreams. Mostly nightmares. Pain and confusion surrounded him. Sweat and blood and more pain. Heat and terrible, terrible cold. Sometimes images broke through the surface of the water. Blurry, like he was looking at them from the wrong side of a mirror. Was this hell? 

_Purgatory..._

His mother’s face appeared out of the darkness. She looked so young. Her skin was fair and smooth, without a trace of illness on it. Only the usual sadness. She was singing to him, just like she had done when he was a little boy and he felt like the whole world had left him and everything was dark and pointless. She had sung to him then, and held him and comforted him. And in those moments, when he was too tired and in too much pain to care, he had let her. There were no questions anymore. Just the relief of being cared for. Of feeling loved. The soft touch of another human being. 

The image of his mother drifted away, and Marion’s face came into focus. Her hands felt cool on his burning body. Her touch was different from his mother’s. Gentle, but strong. More purposeful. How he wanted to feel those hands for all eternity. How he longed for them never to stop caressing him. Love, desire, sadness, guilt, regret... like stones in the water. And then the darkness again. Always the darkness.

 

*

 

When he opened his eyes he was in his own bed. The chamber around him was empty. He was all alone. Pale winter sunlight came in through the window, and he saw little specks of dust dancing around in it. It was so quiet. Quieter than he had ever experienced the castle before. The door creaked open, and Marion walked in with a bowl of steaming water in her hands.

‘Oh, you’re awake!’

Her voice seemed to come from very far away.

She put the bowl down and felt his forehead. ‘The fever broke. How are you feeling?’

‘Water...’ he croaked. The use of his voice after such a long period of silence made him cough. Immediately, a dull pain shot through his right side and spread all the way through his abdomen. Only in this moment, he realised he wasn’t dreaming anymore. No nightmare could imitate the hurt of a real, live injury.

He tried to sit up and look at the damage.

‘Don’t.’ Marion pushed him back down. It didn’t take her much effort. He was winded just from the attempt.

‘How long was I out for?’ he managed to ask.

‘Four days. You lost a lot of blood.’

‘Is it bad?’

‘The wound is deep. It’ll heal, though. Provided you rest enough.’

Marion poured him a cup of wine. He struggled to take a sip. He felt so weak, so lightheaded. Everything around him seemed too sharply lit. And _new_ , somehow. Like he had been born a second time around. 

‘How did I get back here?’

‘The Sheriff arrived at the Wheel, just moments after you lost consciousness.’

Guy frowned. ‘I didn’t tell him about the duel.’

‘When he couldn’t find you that morning he put two and two together.’

‘Oh.’

She raised her eyebrows. ‘He was overjoyed to see me again, I can tell you that...’ 

‘I bet.’ Guy scoffed.

‘Come,’ she said. ‘I have to change the bandage.’

She pulled the covers back. The linen strips around his waist were soaked in blood. Marion carefully peeled them off. It hurt, and he had to use all of his will-power not to flinch.

The cut was nasty indeed. The edges were rough and far apart. Yet he could tell the wound had been treated professionally. The inflammation was already subsiding and none of the skin or flesh had died. Marion was right. He would survive. Thanks to her... 

‘There,’ she said, when she had cleaned out the wound and put a new bandage on. ‘All finished.’

She sat down beside him on the bed.

They looked at each other, and their eyes spoke volumes.

‘I’m sorry, Marion,’ Guy whispered. ‘For everything.’

She gave him a sad smile. ‘Me too.’

‘Can you ever forgive me?’

‘Forgive you?’

‘For raping you.’ He spoke the words without shame or uneasiness. He felt calm. Serene, almost. Like he was finally talking to her on the same level.

She looked at her hands. ‘You didn’t rape me, Guy. In a way, we were both raped. By the King and the Queen.’

He frowned as he considered this. ‘Maybe.’

They sat together in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. 

‘I wonder if they ever think about us, sometimes.’

Marion scoffed. ‘Probably not.’

‘No, probably not,’ he agreed.

He sighed. ‘Look, Marion, I can’t lie. As much as the King and Queen are to blame, I...’ He shook his head. ‘A part of me enjoyed it. A lot.’ He glanced at her, unsure how she would react.

Marion didn’t say anything. Her eyes shifted from side to side as she thought about what he’d said. ‘I know,’ she finally whispered. ‘You weren’t all that mistaken when you told me I was lying to myself. I did make love to you that night, even if my mind was elsewhere. It’s just the only way I know how. I’m sorry.’

He took her by the hand. ‘No, no, don’t be...’

‘I’m not in love with you, Guy,’ she sighed, closing her eyes. ‘I didn’t lie about that.’

He realised that now, but it still hurt to hear it. 

Marion squeezed his hand and whispered: ‘But that doesn’t mean I don’t... _feel_ for you.’

That made it even harder, somehow. 

He managed a weak smile. ‘You’re not here to stay, are you?’

She shook her head.

‘Will he still want you, after all this?’

‘I don’t know. But at least _I_ feel ready to talk to him again. That’s something, I guess.’

‘What will you tell him?’

‘The reason I stayed here, with you, for so long.’

Guy studied her face. ‘Why did you?’

Marion breathed in deeply. When she spoke, her voice was low but steady. ‘I stayed in Nottingham because I needed time. Time for myself, to figure things out. To be alone.’

‘You weren’t alone...’

‘No, but I could be perfectly alone in your company.’

He frowned.

‘I don’t mean it in a bad way.’ She sighed as she tried to find the right words to explain this to him. ‘Look, in Sherwood, and even in Leaford, I have a certain role to fulfil. My friends and family consider me to be strong and capable. They’ve come to expect that of me. And as a woman, I’ve had to fight hard for that respect.’ She paused for a moment. ‘But after what happened, I desperately needed a place where I could just be _weak_ for a change.’ 

She looked him in the eyes. ‘You were there during the darkest hours of my life, Guy. You have seen me at my lowest, my most vulnerable. I had nothing to prove to you, no image to maintain. I could be as sad and depressed and crazy and ugly as I needed to be, to get through my grief. The others would never have been able to handle that. You are the only person that knows what I went through.’

Guy thought this over. And he felt he could understand. Yes, he understood what she meant. 

‘Huntingdon won’t be pleased to hear that.’ He said it without sarcasm or glee. It was just a statement.

‘There is a connection between you and me. And there always will be, whether Robert likes it or not. What happened is part of who I am now, a part of my history. He must decide if he can live with that.’

‘And if he can’t?’

She shrugged. ‘I would be very sad. But I don’t _need_ him in order to stay in the forest. I’ve lived there before we were a couple, I can do so again. Sherwood is my home. It’s where I belong. If there’s anything I take away from all of this, that’s probably it.’

‘Just know that you’ll always be welcome here too. If ever you get ill, or if you grow tired of that life, or whatever... I mean... who knows what the future might bring?’

She smiled.

‘Come,’ she said, standing up. ‘You must rest now.’

He tightened his grip on her hand. ‘Will you... will you leave immediately?’ He cringed when he recognised the panic in his voice. He hadn’t meant for it to come out like that.

‘I won’t go until you are well enough to be trusted to the physician here,’ she assured him. ‘And that’ll be a good couple of days still.’

Relieved, he sank back into the pillows and closed his eyes.


	27. Chapter 27

A week later, Guy was able to move around again, albeit slowly and still with a considerable amount of pain.

‘You should really stay indoors,’ Marion told him, as they walked into the courtyard together. ‘You’re still weak.’

He shrugged. ‘I’ll live.’

They stopped near the stable-building. ‘I wish you would’ve taken your cloak,’ he complained, with a disapproving look at the plain brown one she was wearing now.

She raised her eyebrows. ‘What could I do with a brocade cloak in Sherwood?’

‘I don’t know. Sell it, for all I care. I gave it you. It’s yours to do with as you please.’

‘Well, it pleases me to leave it here.’

He pulled a face. She was far too smart for her own good.

‘Oh, don’t sulk,’ she smiled. ‘You keep it. To remember me by, if you will...’ She looked away, and Guy felt a pang of that empty feeling pulling at him again.

There was an awkward silence.

‘I’ll miss you,’ he blurted out. And then, even worse: ‘Will you... forget about me?’

She swallowed, a little uneasy it seemed. He was embarrassing her, even now. He looked at the ground and stepped back. ‘Just go. Go now and be safe, all right?’

She opened her mouth, but didn’t know what to say. With a last curt nod she turned around and started making for the gate. On foot, even though he had offered her a horse and a mounted guard. The sight of her leaving was unbearable, and he turned his back to the whole wretched scene.

He closed his eyes and leaned his hand against the stable wall. His heart was racing. He could feel the beat pounding through his injury. He was breathing hard, as if he’d just run a mile.

A light touch brushed his shoulder. He exhaled, struggling with his emotions. Slowly, he put his hand on top of hers. He squeezed it gently. Then he turned around and looked into her eyes. He knew his soul lay wide open to her now. There was no shield protecting his feelings anymore. But he couldn’t bear to look away. He drowned in her gaze, willingly. She stepped closer still and put her arms around him. Her fingers caressed the back of his neck. He felt every movement she made, the pressure of her body against his, the expansion of her chest as she breathed. She leaned in, and there was no awkwardness anymore. No hesitation. Their lips touched in a kiss. A first, real kiss. He tasted her tender warmth. Her life, pulsating under her skin. It sent shivers up his spine. There was a connection between them, and this time he was sure she felt it too.

She broke the embrace and hugged him tightly. He pulled her as close as he could. Her curls brushed against his cheek, and he shut his eyes, trying to imprint this moment in his memory.

‘I’ll never forget,’ she whispered.

Then she was gone.

For good.

 

 

He stood there for a very long time. Leaning against the stable wall, looking at the spot under the gate where she had disappeared from sight. He didn’t care what anyone thought. And no one was foolish enough to disturb him, not even the Sheriff. He thought about everything that had happened since the night he had been forced into marriage. King John had wanted to punish him. A folly the Queen had whispered in his ear. But unknowingly, and for all his cruelty, the King had really given him a gift. Marion was gone now. But she would always be his wife. No one could ever change that. Nor take away what they had shared together. 

And he realised that Marion’s true strength lay not in her fierceness, her bravery or even her intelligence. 

Her greatest power was her ability to create beauty, even out of the most ugly thing...


End file.
